Enternity
by Hell's Ice Heaven's Fire
Summary: DMHP 5th year story. Draco and his father flee from the Dark Lord’s clutches to the Order. Harry comes to Order half dead. Features Dark!Harry SLASH mentions of MPREG and Rape
1. Chapter 1

Title: Eternity

Pairing(s): DMHP HGRW after that I'm not quite sure.

Results of voting before take down of Sibling Love: A 20; B 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, yet.

* * *

Harry had come to the conclusion that somebody must be laughing at him. He had been very patient this summer; he didn't attack Dudley or his friends, he didn't talk back to his Aunt, and he didn't do anything even remotely disrespectful to his Uncle. And yet, here he was.

Where was "here"?

"Here" was on the ground in fetal position as his uncle kicked the crap out of him; "here" was his staved body; "here" was his many broken bones. "Here" was the ripped clothes from where his uncle raped him, repeatedly, as his aunt watched on. "Here" was the internal bleeding from his pierced lungs, and other organs that he was sure were bleeding. "Here" was the blood seeping out of him onto the carpet. But most importantly, "here" was the homicidal thoughts racing through his mind, the rage that was keeping him alive.

"You're nothing, worthless! No one is coming to save you; your freaks aren't going to ever push you into my home again! You're going to die and I'm going to laugh." His uncle tried to sound menacing, and from a perspective that wasn't Harry's, he supposed he did. The tone made Harry want to rip his tongue out.

He thought he heard his aunt scream, thought he saw an enraged Sirius Black crash through the doors, wand at the ready…still, he was positive that he saw nothing but darkness afterwards.

* * *

The Order Headquarters was quiet. Currently, Lucius and Draco Malfoy were being questioned in the other room, while Hermione and Ron stayed close by. The twins and Ginny were asleep, which was understandable, as it was very early in the morning. 

The Father and Son had been brought in by Severus Snape, who claimed the Dark Lord tried to kill them. Thus, a mini-trial was being held. From what they could hear -or rather, not hear- it was going well; the two teens heard the whole beginning of the improvised trial. They had to admit, it sounded to them, at least, that Draco Malfoy was telling the truth. They couldn't read his father quite as well, but that wasn't the topic of tonight's discussion.

From where Hermione was curled with her head pillowed on Ron's lap – his hands running through her hair- she looked up at him, speaking softly in Korean. Both knew that none of the Order members knew that particular language.

"Seems Harry was right again. 'A change will come about involving Draco Malfoy.' Damn, that's just not fair." Harry had predicted last year that something like this would happen, and after four years of friendship, the two were convinced that Harry was a better Seer than their divination professor.

They talked about this and that, digressing off topic before returning to it. They finally decided that they would treat the younger Malfoy based on how he treated them from this day forward.

"Okay, moving on," Ron switched to French, "We really should look at Harry's letter. We keep getting interrupted." Hermione moved so she was leaning against his shoulder. He was thankful to Harry -who made sure he was exposed to sexual events early- otherwise he'd be beat red, since Hermione's breast was touching his arm.

"There is no 'dear'…doesn't say anybody's name, 'you guys, you people'…the content isn't like Harry at all." Ron was alarmed now. He looked at Hermione, who grabbed the letter from him.

"Rigid, not flowing…messy, not sloppy…This wasn't written by Harry. This does not look good." Hermione dropped the letter onto Ron's lap as she got up to pace. After a few minutes, she turned back to Ron.

"Go upstairs and get those rings." Last year, when Hermione had bought some muggle mood rings for the trio, she and Ron had charmed both of theirs to show what physical/mental shape Harry was in. When the Third Task took place and Harry was in grave danger -he was fine, mentally and physically speaking; the rings glowed a light violet. Under normal circumstances, the rings were translucent.

Ron retrieved the rings and came back down.

"We have to talk to the Order. Now. The rings are black." The darker the color of the ring, the worse his condition was. For the rings to be black meant Harry was on the threshold of death. For a full span of two seconds, the two teens simply looked at each other; for a full span of two seconds, they felt helpless and child-like. For a full span of two seconds, they were terrified out of their minds. Then it passed.

Hermione threw the door separating them and the Order open with a bang.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley! We are in the middle of a-" McGonagall was abruptly cut off by Ron.

"Harry's in danger." The statement seemed to capture everyone's attention. Hermione explained about the letter and the rings in her calm, yet efficient manner. Mrs. Weasley grabbed the younger Malfoy, and kicked out all three of the teens. The door was then warded.

"Is it really that bad?" Malfoy's voice was soft, yet cold.

"It's probably worse." Ron replied. No one said much after that. A few minutes later, when the Order was leaving to confirm Hermione and Ron's claims the three playing Chinese checkers.

When the Order came back, they appeared as if ready to commit mass murder. Sirius' eyes were furious, even as tears flowed down his face. Snape shouted for Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore. When Pomfrey was working on Harry, the adults all filed into one room again. The twins and Ginny woke up and came downstairs, when Molly Weasley was heard screaming bloody murder at Albus about Harry's condition.

"What's all the…" Ginny's sleepy complaint was never finished, as she caught sight of Harry. Lucius Malfoy and Sirius herded the teens into yet another room, more or less locking them away from Harry.

The twins regarded Draco Malfoy for a short moment, before turning to Hermione.

"What happened?" She told them everything that she told the Order. As she progressed further, the twins became angrier, and Ginny began to seriously contemplate torture methods for Harry's 'dear' relatives. Malfoy must have picked up on that, since the next thing he casually mentioned was that torture was only illegal if you did it and got caught.

The youngest red-head and the Malfoy heir harmonized beautifully during their planning of dealing with Harry's relatives. The teens stayed in that room until noon of the next day.

* * *

A/N: Reveiws are gladly accepted! If you wish to Flame me, LIST REASONS!!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Eternity

Pairing(s): DMHP HGRW ...After that, I'm not quite sure.

* * *

"With a new day comes new hope." Ron recited a quote he often heard Harry say. His siblings and Malfoy all gave him blank looks. Hermione took a deep breath and lead the small group to the other group of adults.

Molly Weasley gave them a small, strained smile. All the adults looked exhausted; Sirius still had blood on his clothes from where he had picked Harry up. Lucius Malfoy was writing something with quick, precise movements; his jaw was tensed, showing that he was either stressed or angry. Remus was pacing, every now and again he'd pause to growl, and then resume his pacing.

"Harry is stable, finally; we almost lost him when his heart stopped beating." Here Mrs. Weasley had to stop, as a sob was wrenched from her mouth. "He's in a coma right now, being fed nutrients through potions. Poppy says he can hear us, so if you want to talk to him you can."

"What is going to become of the Dursleys?" Ginny asked. Her mother's eyes hardened and she pursed her lips together. That's when Remus whirled on them.

"THE MINISTY IS REFUSING TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! THEY SAY HARRY'S A LIAR AND WON'T TAKE THE EVIDENCE THAT POPPY GAVE THEM! ON TOP OF IT, THEY PURPOSELY MOVED HIS TRIAL DATE TO TOMMORROW; AND HE'S STIL GOING TO BE IN A COMA!" Sirius finally leaped up and shot a calming spell at Remus, then dragged him away with an apologetic look to everyone.

"They can't do that! Father, can't you do something?" Draco's voice obviously came as a shock to the remaining adults present.

"I'm trying, Draco, but there's only so much I can do."

* * *

Sleep did not come easy that night to one Draco Malfoy. He was frustrated, annoyed, outraged, and absolutely disgusted…on behalf of Harry Potter. He was frustrated because the Ministry was full of heathens that apparently condone severe child abuse. He was annoyed because obviously Albus Dumbledore **didn't give a fuck**; as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot he had a lot of power. Get a popular vote of incompetence and Fudge could be booted from office, then Potter could have political justice. His outrage came from much of the same thing.

It was his disgust that befuddled him. Sure, it was hideous what the muggles did, but in essence all they did was beat him up. There was no cause for disgust based on what the adults told him…

Unless they didn't mention everything that happened to him. With a frustrated sound be turned in the bed he was given and shut his eyes determined to get some sleep.

* * *

_A giggle bounced into his hearing. He opened his eyes, ready to growl at whoever had entered his room while he was asleep, then blinked in confusion. He was not in his room…in fact, he wasn't even in the Order's headquarters anymore._

_He was in a field of flowers near a babbling brook with what looked like moonlight streaming down. The flowers were all sorts of colors, even some colors that should not have been on flowers, like blue-violet. A strange color that looked like a mix between black, yellow, and pink was also present on these flowers. _

"_That combination should not be possible." He muttered to himself. _

"_Why not?" The voice was soft -gentle, almost feminine- and sounded really close. Draco turned and was met with Harry Potter's curious face. From this close Draco could honestly say that Potter was a gorgeous individual, but definitely not out loud. _

"_When did you get there? Where are we anyway?" Ignoring Potter's question to ask one of his own, Draco backed away from the other boy. Potter giggled the same giggle that woke Draco up. _

"_Limbo. The space between living and dying. Where did you think we were?" _

"_Why are we here?"_

"_I'm here because I have no choice. You're here because you want to be here."_

"_I don't want to be here."_

"_You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be; you're not dying."_

"_Neither are you; they stabilized you!"_

"_They stabilized my body."_

"_Why word it that way?"_

"_I am Me. My body is my body. A body can be in perfect health, but that soul might not be in there. They stabilized my body, but I am not free to go to it yet."_

"_Why not?" _

"_I'm not healed. Thantos wants me here."_

"_The Personification of Death?_

"_The Demi-god of Death. The first person to serve Death."_

"_Demi-god?"_

"_Halfling. Half god. Thantos was a human; he fell in love with Hades and became a half god: Demi-god."_

"_But…he's the personification of Death."_

"_Yes. Not Death itself."_

"_Oh."_

_A giggle. _

"_You sound like a girl, Potter."_

"_So?"_

"_You're a guy."_

"_Your point?" Draco blinked. What was his point? Did it really matter which gender Potter acted as?_

"_I don't know."_

_They lapsed into comfortable silence. _

"_Why are you being so civil?" Of course it was Draco that broke the silence._

"_You're normally the one who is nasty. My friends aren't here for you to insult, so there is no reason to be nasty to you."_

"_But I've insulted you by yourself tons of times."_

"_By insulting my friends. I don't care if you insult me."_

"_Oh."_

"_You're waking up."_

"_So I am dreaming?"_

"_No."_

* * *

Draco woke up with a yawn, sitting up in his bed. He was in the room he feel asleep in, with no signs that he had been anywhere. He felt…nice; like all his frustration and annoyance from yesterday was gone. Who knew he'd feel so…nice…from talking to Potter?

Wasn't there a better word than "nice"?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Quotes in first paragraph belong to the book Voyage on the Great Titanic: the diary of Margaret Ann Brandy from the Dear America book series. The quotes can be found on pages 78 and 79 in the Hardback copy.

I also must ask that you bear with my odd writing style in the Dream Sequences. I'm writing as if the dream was actually happening, so some things might be mentioned, but explained later.

I think you might need these:

"Blah" Talking

_Blah _Dream Sequence

"_**Blah**_" Parseltongue [This will change

* * *

"'…I had every intention of continuing my entry last night, but fell asleep before I had a chance to lie down. The sea air can do that, Mrs. Carstairs tells me…'" Ginny stopped her reading to smooth Harry's hair back.

"See Harry, I'm reading this book. You recommended it for me and you were right: I do like it. I read it before I go to sleep and, obviously, to you as you lie here. Sirius is really worried about you. So are Mum and Dad…and the rest." Ginny placed a bookmark in her book as her older brothers came into the room.

"Dad and Dumbledore came back from the Ministry. They say that between the Headmaster and Lord Malfoy, they managed to get Harry a proper verdict. He's innocent."

* * *

Draco was in the Black library reading up on demi-gods, being in limbo, and magical bonds. Potter had been telling him the truth the night before. And as Draco had never read anything on those topics it meant that he really _had_ been pulled into limbo with Potter…which was only possible if he was somehow connected to the other boy.

He'd narrowed it down to a couple of connections or bonds that could connect the two. The first one was "comitis," the bond of friendship. This bond occurred between, obviously, friends that had magical strength. It can also connect two people who are _about_ to become friends; thus the reason it wasn't omitted.

The second one was "gelyn;" the bond of enemies. From what Draco had read of it the bond was something that formed by the hatred that coursed through your magic when you hated someone; when you had an enemy. And as the two had been enemies until that "dream" it worked too…if you ignored some of the things Harry said during afore mentioned event.

The third one was a bond of love. There were many names to go to the many types of specific love bonds. Sibling love, Light love, Dark love, Fleeting love, Desperate love, the list went on.

He was really getting tired, sitting here in this library…

* * *

_The wind blew through the trees behind him. It sang with the flowers beneath his feet and danced with his hair. The river laughed as it rode the currents._

_Draco sighed; why did Potter's limbo look like this? According to the books he'd read Limbo usually was just a dark abyss. _

"_Thantos likes me here. Therefore, this space can look like anything I desire. And please, call me Harry here." _

_Draco turned around to look at Harry. The other boy smiled, walking past him to the river. Draco followed determined to have a conversation with Potter, Harry, whatever. _

"_What are you wearing?"_

"_A muggle sundress." _

"_Don't females wear those?"_

"_Yes. I was playing a game before you came."_

"_A game?"_

_A smile, those emerald eyes shinning with what looked like laughter. _

"_Stop smiling…it's creepy."_

_Harry turned away from him, laughing out into the now nonexistent wind. _

_They talked next to that river for hours, talking about so many things. For some reason, Draco felt compelled to just set aside any warnings he felt about basically spilling his heart out to Harry Potter, a boy who he'd scorned for as long as he'd known him. The whole time Harry listened, patient and with a gentle air about him. _

_It was almost as if his mother had come back to life. _

* * *

Fingers were carding through his hair and there was a really warm presence all of the sudden.

Draco opened his eyes to see his father above him. He was in a bed, not the library, and his father was sitting in a chair. Said father gave him a small smile.

"Good to see you awake son. I think we need to talk." He sat up so he could look at his father better.

"About what? What time is it?"

"A little after ten in the evening. As to what we need to talk about…"His father looked up when the door opened. Severus Snape came in, saw the look Lucius was giving him, and promptly cast Silencing Charms and Anti-listening Charms on the door. Severus took a seat next to the older blond.

"I saw what you were researching."

"Father, I can explain about that-" Lucius held a hand up to silence his son.

"I understand. Which is why we're having this conversation. Draco, your mother is gone and I know that hurts, but you can not bring her back."

Draco blinked a few times. What was his father talking about?

"And even if you could you would not be bring your mother back, Draco, it would be something else." Severus added, laying a hand on Draco's leg. He was confused…why did his Father and Godfather think he wanted to bring his mother back?

"I know some of the Fairy Tales your mother used to read to you had the heroes summoning a lost one or loved one using the strength of their love, or a magical bond, and the help of a god; but such a thing is taboo for a reason in reality. They won't come back like in the Fairy Tales. Do you understand Draco? It wouldn't be worth it." Realization set in. They saw the books he'd been reading and thought he was trying to bring his mother back. They didn't know about Harry, or his dreams.

"I understand, Father…it's just so hard sometimes. I miss her. Not that you and Severus aren't absolutely wonderful, it's just that…I miss her." Well, he wasn't in Slytherin for nothing after all.

* * *

Ginny was neither stupid, clueless, nor naïve. She just let a choice few people think that about her. She had known all about Harry's abuse, just like Hermione and Ron had. But she had said nothing... why? Because, just like Hermione and Ron, she had been sworn to secrecy.

But even so, she felt like Harry's condition could have been avoided if she had tried a little harder to help. She couldn't stand that feeling. Harry had been her first childhood crush, her friend, her teacher, her go-to person, a family member, and the person to introduce her to Luna Lovegood.

Harry had met Luna in his Third Year, Ginny's Second Year. Luna had been mute then, and had been, ever since she was nine and saw her Mother die. Harry met Luna the same way he got to know Hermione: by protecting her from older, "more mature" students at Hogwarts. Luna was a unique person, special, and mute. She made "weird" things in her free time and never talked. Someone found out about her mother and decided to cruelly tease her about it, and everyone else just played along.

Hermione was much the same way apparently. Everyone made fun of her because not only was she muggle-born, but she was a bookworm. She had "buck teeth", "bushy hair", and didn't wear makeup like Lavender Brown and her gang of friends.

But then Harry came.

To Hermione he sang her songs, talked with her about theory and books, made people leave her alone if he was around, saved her life from a troll, and introduced her to Ron Weasley. Harry became her friend and stayed her friend through thick and thin, and she repaid him by doing the same.

He did much the same thing with Luna. She was being teased. He happened upon her, told her tormentors to leave her be, and offered her kind words. She gave him a necklace that she made herself and he put it on. He asked her name, she didn't say anything. Instead of thinking her ungrateful, he introduced himself and asked if she wanted to go to the Library with him. From there, they started a friendship. For the first week, he called her Kamala, saying she reminded him of lotus flowers. He eventually got her to write her name down, and would only call her Kamala if she was upset.

Then, he introduced Luna and Ginny to each other.

The two girls hit it off immediately, and Luna didn't need to rely on Harry as much anymore; Ginny stopped dating boys who reminded her of Harry subconsciously.

That summer was hell for Ginny, the World Cup Aside. She felt smoldering hot, then freezing cold all the time. It was like she was having hot flashes, for heavens sakes! At the World Cup, she felt fine, until the Death Eaters came. However, she was scared, not…flashy as she had taken to call it.

When she got back to school, she felt normal again. Then Luna wrote that the World Cup was interesting…and Ginny understood.

But Luna didn't.

It took all of Ginny's Third Year to get Luna to talk…It took Ginny kissing her full on the mouth for Luna to say one word: Wow.

Over the summer, the two wrote to each other once every day. Ginny in the morning, Luna in the evening, Ginny in the morning again, etc.

Ginny had told Luna about what happened to Harry and the girl was furious. Ginny could tell, since her own temper was becoming short.

But Luna also contacted Dumbledore and somehow got him to agree with her.

Luna was coming to Headquarters to see Harry.

Luna was going to be sharing Ginny and Hermione's room.

How was Ginny going to convince Hermione to let the girls have some time to themselves without outing their sexuality?


	4. Chapter 4

I think you might need these:

"Blah" Talking

_Blah _Dream Sequence

"_**Blah**_" Parseltongue [This will change

* * *

_Almost every night, he was pulled into Limbo, and he had spoken with Harry about everything. Draco now knew things about Harry that he doubted many other people knew. Harry had a mother that did not give birth to him, he himself was able to bear children, and he hated humans, but loved them so much more. _

_Draco didn't understand that. He'd asked Harry about it and the other boy told him that he hated humanity for a simple reason: he couldn't hate them more then he could love them. _

"_What are you thinking about?"_

"_Don't you know?"_

"_Yes, but I'd rather you talk to me."_

"_Can you do that out of here?"_

"_Do what?"_

"_Read people's minds."_

"_A little. It depends on a lot of things."_

"_Like what?" Draco looked up at him and was gifted with that smile. There was something…unsettling about that smile. Mocking, always mocking, and bitter. _

_Harry didn't answer his question. Instead he became interested in a snake that appeared at Draco's feet. _

"_**Hello.**__" Harry had done this a few times around him. He'd see a snake, most likely one he wanted there, and he'd talk to it. In this Limbo, it was almost as if Draco understood what he was saying. But just in feelings. _

"_**Hello, Beloved of Thantos**__." He knew the snake addressed Harry by a term that had to do with Thantos, because the Demi-god's name felt cold. _

"_**We noticed that we no longer have to sing you to sleep. Is there any particular reason why?**__" That had to do with sleep, Draco knew that because one of the words felt…sleepy. That was the only way to describe it. _

"_**Some one is singing me lullabies on the other side**__." That had to do with singing. Draco could tell because for a split second he could hear Harry's singing. And after that exchange the snake simply vanished._

"_Draco, Luna is there, right?"_

"_Yes."_

"_She knows many old lullabies."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Names no one now remembers, lyrics long forgotten, but the melody strong and clear. She seems like Ginny."_

_Draco was confused. Luna seemed like Ginny…? Their conversations often went like this, and most of the time Harry wanted Draco to ask a question in a certain way or think about something different than he might otherwise. _

_Harry told Draco things for reasons. Why was he telling Draco this?_

"_Seems like Ginny how?"_

"_Like how Arthur seems like Molly."_

_How Arthur seems like…wait. They're married, why would Luna seem like Ginny in that manner? They aren't married. _

"_Arthur and Molly aren't just married Draco. Luna seems like Ginny in the same way Lucius seems like Severus." That smile was back on his face._

_Like Father seems like…wait._

"_Are you telling me they are lovers?"_

"_Very good Draco."_

"_Why tell me that?"_

"_Because something is going to happen today, when you awaken, that involves that information. I didn't want you to be startled."_

"_I know you are a Seer, so I have to ask: why the hell is your Divination score so low?"_

"_What is a Seer but a word?" Harry placed a kiss to Draco's cheek._

* * *

Draco's eyes opened. At first he was a bit disorganized, as one is when first awakening. Then he was annoyed.

"You didn't answer my bloody question!" He shouted into the silence of his room.

"Who didn't answer your question?" An amused voice sounded from the direction of his door. It was Severus.

"Ah, nobody. I was dreaming." Draco moved out of his bed to go to his closet to look for some clothes. Luna is like Ginny like his Father is like Severus…How did Harry know that?

"Sev, do you think a lot of people know about your relationship with Father?" Which shirt would look good with these pants…?

"I should hope not, otherwise that would make things a lot more difficult then they are. We'd be in even more danger if that were the case." Blue or green? Which color…?

* * *

Luna ran her fingers through Harry's hair, as she hummed a lullaby under her breath. Ginny was sitting across from them on another couch doing her homework. She was so beautiful, like a Thestral basking in the moonlight. Luna wondered how she'd look unclothed. Would her beauty surpass the stars? How would Ginny look writhing underneath her, or above her panting?

"Luna, you're bright red. What are you thinking about?" Ginny's amused voice floated over to her. Luna could feel her face getting redder. Ginny was suddenly next to her.

"Thinking about me, by chance?" Ginny pressed closer to Luna, so her perfect breasts were lightly pressed against her arm.

Luna thought about these things because the two of them had yet to have sex. They had been intimate with each other, sure, but they hadn't had sex.

It was Harry that convinced them that they weren't ready for sex. He had told them that they would be ready when they both could have a conversation, together, about it without blushing. The two of them had thought that sex was the most passionate act of love; but Harry had told them different. He told them the most passionate act of love was speech. Talking about your viewpoints, likes, dislikes, fears, quirks, everything. That was passion; that was love.

Luna turned to look at Ginny, leaning in to gently brush their lips together.

The door opened at that moment to emit Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape who both froze at seeing the two girls.

* * *

Draco supposed that this was what Harry had meant. The two girls broke apart hastily, a light blush taking over their features. Severus ignored them, merely walking over to check on Harry. After dubbing him fine, he walked out.

"Hello Draco."

"Hi."

"You can't tell my parents about this, or my family, or anyone!" Draco arched an eyebrow at Ginny, who opened her mouth to say more.

"One has to wonder if you are, perhaps, ashamed by your sexuality and girlfriend."

"No! It's not like that!"

"Then what is it like? Because that's what it looks like from this angle." Draco wasn't trying to be mean this time. He was genially curious. He knew Ginny's family loved her, so why would she hide something this important from them?

"That's not it at all. I will tell them, but when I'm ready. I love my family and I know they love me, but I still have insecurities. I don't know how my parents think of homosexuality. Will they still love me? Will things be awkward? Until I have solid answers to these questions I will not tell them. And I'm not ashamed of who I am or the fact that I love Luna; I'm just not sure I want to broadcast that to the world. It's not shame, it's fear."

Draco was rather shocked. Ginny had been honest with him and even admitted what could be a potential weakness to him. Either she was really naïve, which Harry told him she wasn't, or she really considered him a friend.

He wasn't really sure when he had moved, but he had somehow migrated to standing right in front of Ginny with his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry for making it sound that way. I was just curious."

Before Ginny could say anything to make the moment even sappier, the door opened.

Sirius Black stepped through, looking extremely tired. The man had gotten very little sleep lately, between keeping Remus from slaughtering the Dursley's and keeping himself from doing the same thing. On top of that, he was reading up on all sorts of books about mental health and therapy for torture victims. He was determined to be there for Harry, if and when he had "recovery problems of the mental type," as named by the Twins. This house was also causing problems; it was bringing up too many memories.

"Hey, kids. Could you, you know, let me have some alone time with Harry?" Sirius grinned a grin that seemed forced. Ginny grabbed her homework and books, before leaving with Luna and Draco.

* * *

Sirius watched the kids file out before carefully sitting down on Harry's bed-couch-cot-thing. Poppy had enlarged a couch to keep him on comfortably, and no one dared to move him. The kids didn't know it, but Harry was very close to death. No one understood that he was fine now, stable, but his soul just seemed to be withering away. Like sand through fingers.

Sirius was scared. He didn't want to lose Harry; he was like the son he wished he and Remus could have. But of course the Ministry was full of prejudiced fuck heads, so that was never going to happen.

"Hey kiddo, it's your godfather. I know I haven't really been speaking to you lately…it's because I've been locked away with Remus. We've both been…angry. Not at you, of course, but at the Dursley's. Angry is an understatement. We both want to take a page out of the Dark Lord's book and torture them into insanity then death, but enough about me." Sirius gave a choked sound that could've been a chuckle in another life.

"I miss you, kiddo. A lot has been going on. I miss hearing your voice, seeing your calm smile, your singing, hell, I even miss that slightly depressed look in your eyes. Guess I know what that look is from now, huh?" Sirius sighed here, starting to card his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Why didn't you tell any of us what they were doing to you? I knew you were happy when I asked you to come live with me, but I never thought…that's beside the point. You did tell Hermione and Ron, though, but you made them swear you an oath. Mad-eye was proud of you for the idea, but pissed that you used it to keep something that bad from people who could help you. We could have helped you, Harry. We all care very much for you." Sirius stood up, looking down at Harry.

"Wake up soon, kiddo. School starts in a few days and I wanna talk to you before you have to leave." He reached down to move Harry's bangs away from his forehead, exposing the lighting bolt to the world.

"I love you, Kiddo."

Sirius had his hand on the doorknob when he heard it. A soft sound forming words.

"Sirius." He whipped around to look at Harry in shock, surprise, hope, and joy. Harry's tired green eyes looked at him.

"I love you, too."

Sirius had Harry in his arms before he knew what was happening, yelling in happiness, 'He's awake and alive.'

Eventually his yelling brought Poppy, who alerted the rest of the Order and the students there that Harry was awake and well.

* * *

A/N: Okay, this took FOREVER for me to write becasue it just wouldn't work with me. So, Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter.

Reveiws would be nice...I might be pursuaded to update faster that way...


	5. Chapter 5

"Blah." Talking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue

'Blah' Thinking

* * *

After Harry woke up, the Order immediately held a meeting concerning his situation.

'How typical. Something happens and, oh heavenly Merlin, we have to talk about it!' Severus Snape thought, feeling a tad bit pissed off. Why? Because the Order of the Phoenix was full of idiots; immature idiots.

"Yes, yes, we're all happy that Harry is awake, but what about the Malfoys? Are you really going to keep them here, Albus? We can't trust them, they're Malfoys!" Arthur Weasley was one of those immature idiots. This was the third time he'd interrupted this meeting, about Potter, to talk about Lucius.

"Weasley, Albus already made them a loyalty test; the same one all of us undertook. And, we already had a hearing, in this very room, about trusting them. I'm sure that your small brain can at least remember that." Severus forced himself not to sneer. Or he tried, at least.

"That test obviously didn't stop Pettigrew from betraying us last time around. Besides which, Draco Malfoy wasn't tested, or did your small brain miss that part?" 'Arthur stole his insult! Oh, how cunning, how smart he must be! Stupid Gryffindor.'

"I didn't miss that, you overgrown worm. Maybe we should test all the teenagers in this house in their loyalty, then? While we're at it, why not re-test everyone else, too? We can even waste more time by holding regular screenings. How about that plan?" Severus was tired of constantly arguing about this topic.

"Severus! Arthur! Enough of this, we are in the middle of a discussion, argue on your own time, not ours." Albus' voice thundered. Looking at him, Severus was forced to admit that he looked very old and fragile.

Looking around the table, Severus was forced to admit quite a lot of things. Almost no one here trusted Lucius. It made him angry; who were these people to judge his Lucius? They didn't know him, didn't have to know the hell he had gone through during the First War, didn't know anything about him. Who were they to judge him?

"Albus, Arthur has a point. Why should we trust the Malfoys? All we have is the results of a test that has failed us once before; your reasoning that makes no sense to us, as does Severus Snape's, the word of someone who could be blinded by his love for Lucius Malfoy." Alastor Moody was also one to attack Lucius whenever he had the chance.

Severus was about to stand up and most likely do something worthy of a Gryffindor, when a new voice sounded.

"I will deny ever saying this in front of my Godson, but Snape has never lied to us before. And…he is a good judge of character, normally. The only person he's been so incredibly wrong about before has been Harry, and that was just because of James. I think if he trusts the Malfoy's… we should give them a chance." Sirius Black had come to the defense of Lucius Malfoy. Sirius Black. Defending Lucius.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, it's the end of the world." Remus Lupin sounded dazed; he probably hadn't even realized he had spoken aloud. Severus had to agree with the Werewolf: this was probably one of the signs of the apocalypse.

"Moony!" Sirius whined -'that's better... not so creepy.'

"We are discussing Harry, NOT THE MALFOY'S!" Molly Weasley apparently had enough of this. Ever since Lucius had helped Albus clear Potter's name, the woman had warmed up to him. That attitude had rubbed off on her daughter, as well. Miss Weasley and Draco were good friends, and could often be seen talking. Same with Miss Lovegood.

That brought unwanted memories. He looked at Molly, and wondered if she knew her daughter was in a relationship with Luna Lovegood…

"Harry's condition NEEDS to be addressed." Right, Potter, not the possible teen drama in the house.

"Thank you Molly. Poppy, if you would tell us your conclusions once more." Not all the members knew what condition he was found in; only the ones who had gotten him from those pathetic excuses for humans were aware of how grim it was.

Severus Snape didn't like Potter for all the wrong reasons -he was able to admit that now- but that didn't mean he was about to frolic through open fields with the boy, regardless of his current condition. Poppy stood up.

"Harry Potter was found battered and bleeding in his relatives' household on the evening of August fourth. He had multiple open lacerations on his back caused by what looked like a nine-tail whip found within the household. He also was bleeding from a carving on his chest that inscribed the word 'Whore.'" Poppy choked on the word, forcing it out. She had to pause to take a deep breath before continuing.

"He had internal bleeding from a knife wound to his kidney. He had several bruises upon his head and a severe concussion. His glasses had been broken in such a way that shards pierced the skin around his eyes, narrowly avoiding his eyes." She paused from breath, obviously steeling herself for what she would say next.

"His anal tract was torn and overflowing with semen." It was too much for Molly, who started sobbing into her hands. The rest of the Order who didn't already know had an expression of horror; a couple of them were green.

Lupin and Black had a murderous look of rage about them. Several members were moving away from them, especially when Lupin gave a growl.

Apparently, Poppy had more to say.

"There was tons of evidence to suggest a lifetime of abuse all over Harry's body. However, there was also evidence of…"She looked to Albus, who nodded to her gravely.

"There was evidence to suggest he was with child, at one point." A few members fainted, Lucius amongst them. Severus was in shock.

It was fairly common in the wizarding world, as a whole, for males to have children; all that was needed was a strong individual or a potion. Since Potter was more then strong enough, it made sense. However, the body needed to be matured otherwise the risk of losing the baby is much higher. One could even give birth to a dead baby, if the body wasn't matured enough. Potter was small, he always had been; his body wasn't fit to bear children.

Albus stood up, after the fainted members came back to themselves.

"As you all can see this is very grave. On top of all that, I'm not sure how mentally stable Mr. Potter is. The Ministry has already "given" Hogwarts a Defense teacher, but I need someone, or multiple someones, at Hogwarts this year. Any suggestions?"

Mad-eye made the first suggestion, which sounded like sheer madness, but also like something Severus really wouldn't mind doing.

"Why don't we just kill the Minister?"

"Ah, that seems like too much work, my old friend." A few members snickered at the joke.

* * *

When Poppy got back to Harry's makeshift bed, she was greeted with an unusual sight.

Harry was sitting up in bed, making what appeared to be a doll of some sort. Poppy had been shocked when she first saw Harry Potter upon his arrival. He looked absolutely beautiful, even in such a state. But cleaned, he looked like someone dropped from Heaven by accident.

During the last four years of his schooling, he had charms to hide the way he really looked; all of his professors merely thought he was hiding small things, like pimples and other things young teenage boys hid from the world. Alas, that simply wasn't the case.

His hair was long and dark as the night sky. During his childhood, Poppy had always been worried about how pale he had appeared, but that was nothing in comparison to how he really looked. It was almost as if he had never been kissed by the sun, or was secretly a Vampire. Of course, Poppy had made sure that wasn't the case, as Vampires were naturally allergic to some medical potions. His body structure was so small that he looked feminine.

"What are you making there, Harry?" Poppy asked kindly, sitting down next to Harry. Harry was already all healed physically, but Poppy wasn't about to just let him go and expect him to be fine. No, she was sure that he was going to suffer some after effects from all the long years of abuse he'd had.

She blinked rapidly to make her tears go away.

"A rag doll for Draco." His voice, as always, came as a shock to Poppy. He was soft spoken, unless he wanted to be loud, which had only ever happened a few times. Yet, it wasn't a recent thing; he'd always sounded like that.

"A rag doll?" Looking down at Harry's bed she saw two other rag dolls, all complete. She reached down to pick them up, looking at Harry to make sure he didn't mind. He didn't.

The one in her left hand had shoulder length blond wool for hair. It was smiling, and dressed in what looked like expensive clothes; kind of like what Lucius Malfoy would wear.

The one in her right hand had black wool for hair and was dressed in black robes, like a Hogwarts professor. It was also smiling.

"Who are these two?" Poppy had a hunch on whom these two were. The better question was: are they rag dolls or voodoo dolls?

Harry looked over at her hands to see what she was inquiring about.

"Blondie is Lucius Malfoy and the other one is Severus Snape." Harry turned back to the doll in his hand. Its' hair was done and some clothes were near his knees. Its' body needed to be put together.

"Why did you make them?" She hoped she sounded casual and not suspicious.

"I made them to give them away. The rag doll of Lucius Malfoy is going to go to Severus Snape, and visa versa. They aren't going to see each other often this year, so I thought they'd like a doll." He took the threaded needle and started connecting the torso to the head.

"Why? I thought you hated Severus." Harry made quick work of connecting the head, then started to connect the arms. Harry was silent for a long while.

"I don't hate Snape. I dislike his blind spots in regard to me, but I don't hate him. He might hate me, for all I know, but that really doesn't matter. Besides, Draco likes him, so there must be a good person under there." The doll was complete. Poppy could tell this was something Harry was good at, he knew exactly what he was doing and could do it quickly.

"Done." Harry held the doll up to look at it, a smile on his face.

"That was quick."

"I'm good at making things."

* * *

Finding Mr. Potter had been a lot more difficult then he thought it would be.

The young man was in the highest levels of the house, talking with a portrait of some Black ancestor.

"You are hard to find, Mr. Potter."

"We apologize for the inconvenience, Lord Malfoy." 'We? Why is he referring to himself in that way? He doesn't when he's talking to his friends… maybe he shouldn't have come up here by himself…'

"Please desist looking at me in that manner. I said "we" because it is a habit, not mine, but it has rubbed off on me I'm afraid. I assure you I'm as sane as the Headmaster." The boy grinned, and Lucius understood what his son meant; that look really was unsettling.

"Well, since his sanity is debatable…" Mr. Potter giggled. Not chuckled…but _giggled._ Lucius suddenly remembered why he joined the light. Lord Voldemort might have scared Lucius, but Potter absolutely terrified the blonde.

"Why are you here, Lord Malfoy?" Potter asked once he had stopped giggling.

"'Lord?' Why address me as such? Because I am a pureblood?" Lucius was genuinely curious. Those mannerisms had been out of style by his grandparent's time, so he hadn't been tutored in them.

"No, because you are a Malfoy, and you haven't given me permission to address you informally. You are the head of the Malfoy Clan, even if you were a half-blood or less, you would still be the Head of the Malfoy Clan, and a Lord. Draco would be called Young Master Malfoy." Lucius nodded. Well, that was enlightening, if Potter was telling the truth.

"Does that apply to all pureblood families?"

"No. Just the ones with what is sometimes called "Royal Blood" or "Old Blood." Some Families are Knights or Guardians. In the Malfoy's case, its' Knight Family is the Zabinis and its' Guardian Family is the Lunars, who sadly no longer exist." Harry looked away to the floor, as if deeply saddened by something. 'Perhaps the boy has a crush on the Zabini's boy, Blaise, and doesn't wish to think of him?'

"I see." How to change the subject so the boy would get that look off his face?

"How do you tell who is Royal or otherwise?" Lucius asked; he'd have to remember to check this information at a later date.

It wasn't Potter that answered the question, but the portrait he had been talking to earlier.

"You don't know that?! Oh, how education has fallen… Well, young Lord Malfoy, you can't tell. It's just one of those things that is. I suppose I can tell you the Royal Bloodlines. They are as follows: Malfoy, Black, Weasley, Prince, Dumbledore, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Potter, and Peverall." Lucius blinked, and then looked at Potter.

"We are both of Old Blood. Why still address me as 'Lord?'" Potter smiled at Lucius, which was just as unsettling as his giggling.

"Manners. You have not given me permission to address you informally."

"You may call me Lucius, if I may call you Harry." Another chilling smile.

"That sounds agreeable… Lucius." Harry had an odd accent. Not quite English, but something else. He wondered where it was from.

"You do not have to call my son 'Young Master.' Is that only for older addressing younger generations?" As Lucius asked this Harry wondered into another room, signaling for Lucius to follow. The blond wasn't sure if he should. What if the boy was leading him into a dangerous trap? After all, the boy had no real reason to be as civil as he had been.

Steeling himself, and discreetly placing a hand near his wand, he followed.

They came to a sitting room. Through the arch lay expensive rugs under old, expensive furniture. It was burgundy in color, no dust in sight. A raised marble mantle with a fireplace was tucked away in the back, with a few windows here and there. The windows had at once been stained glass Lucius could tell, but time had taken its toll, and grayed the ink. There were no portraits in this room, but upon the walls were tapestries of all sorts.

Sitting in front of the non-lit fireplace was Harry, the sofas angled to face the door and the fire simultaneously. Lucius choose one to sit on, turning to Harry when he was situated.

"To answer your question, yes. The term is for older addressing younger. Otherwise, as I am younger than Draco, I would call him 'Sir.' However, those rules are almost never abided by, so they often aren't mentioned. I also don't address Draco formally and never have, because he gave me permission to address him informally. On the train to Hogwarts in our first year, he offered me friendship, which I turned down, but the offer allowed me to address him informally."

Lucius nodded. Who knew that Potter knew all this? Where had he learned it? His relatives weren't part of the wizarding world, and even if they were, that didn't mean they'd know about these mannerisms. After all, Lucius himself didn't know them, so how the hell did Harry know them?

He was just about to ask him when into the study came Luna Lovegood, absentmindedly observing the ceiling. Her eyes landed on Harry and himself.

"Oh, hello Lord Malfoy, Harry." Her voice sounded preoccupied as she looked to the walls. "I saw a Crumble-Horned Snorkack come in here."

'Ah, right, Draco did say this one was… odd.'

"Did you? How interesting. It must be very clever, for I didn't see it. Lucius was just leaving, Luna, perhaps we could hunt for it together?" Harry stood up, a kind smile on his face for Luna. Those smiles weren't so creepy; they just looked somewhat mingled with sorrow.

Lucius left the room, wondering about the conversation he had just had with Harry.

* * *

A/N: My chapters from this point on will be getting longer. Which also means that my update rate will get slower. Also added to the fact that I have School...well, I shouldn't have to say that Reviews would be apprectiated.


	6. Chapter 6

"Blah." Talking

"_Blah"_Parseltongue

'Blah' Thinking

* * *

Draco woke up like the dead. He sat up, eyes desperately trying to see and make sense of the world around him. Blinking the sleep away from his eyes, he tried to remember why the hell he was up this early. He could already tell that school was not going to be easy to get back into the swing of things.

'School…Why does that ring bells…?'

Train. September first. Today.

"SHIT! What time is it?!"

* * *

Severus headed into the bathroom like a zombie. Damn Lucius for being so irresistible, and damn himself for not being able to get enough of the man.

Undressing and stepping into the shower was quick work. Being at Hogwarts meant he was going to have to limit the time he spent with Lucius, which always seems to cause a lot more stress then it should. And now with the Potter situation, as it had been dubbed, this year was already looking crappy. 'Let's not forget the dear idiot from the Ministry that will be there. What was her name… Debbie? Doris?'

His musing was cut off when Lucius practically melded their bodies together by way of hug.

"Lucius… are you hugging me?" A bite to his shoulder caused a moan to escape. Damn his sensitive shoulders.

"That is what people do when in love, no? Hug, kiss, shag…" Lucius sounded awake. How did he sound awake when Severus, himself, still wanted for his bed?

Turning in his lover's arms found a very wet, very naked Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was irresistible when dry and clothed; when wet and naked, he made Severus' brain shut down.

If there was one thing Lucius loved on the green earth, it was Severus. And more specifically, this morning, he loved Severus' cock.

As a teenager and much younger adult, he had many lovers. He had often had men in his bed, but he'd always been dominant. He never quite understood why all his male lovers would literally beg him to fuck them in showers. He could now.

Having Severus pounding into him while the water cascaded down on them was… well, the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.

"Lucius, What am I going to do without you this year?" Severus breathed onto his neck.

"Well, Harry did give you that rag doll of me, didn't he?" Lucius remembered when Harry did that. It was… odd, to say the least. Severus looked like he was about to faint. Harry just gave them that creepy, eyes closed smile, before mentioning how the two of them ought to have something to remind them of each other this year.

"Don't remind me of that doll; it has that kid's creepy air about it." Severus had taken to calling Harry "that kid" instead of any of the other adjectives he had taken to calling him in the past. He still had some issues with Harry, but that was to be expected; the two of them being civil to each other was enough.

* * *

Ginny and Luna were in hysterics. Clutching onto each other in their mirth, laughing so hard their eyes watered. It wasn't even overly funny, but the two of them couldn't seem to help it.

The two girls had come downstairs to see Hermione cooking instead of Mrs. Weasley. She had cooked waffles, English muffins, and made fresh fruit salad and French toast. Ron and Harry were already up, no shock there, and playing the Wizard version of Battleship. Harry was winning. That wasn't the funny part.

The funny part was the way they were acting.

The tree of them had always been different with each other than other people. Harry was like the bridge in between the two connected plots of land separated by water. In many ways, Harry was their pillar. An outsider, like Ginny or Luna, could never understand the way they all worked together.

Hermione was firmly in the role of Molly Weasley that morning, making breakfast and currently, Harry's plate. Of course, she did that every morning at Hogwarts as well, but it always got the same complaint. Then Ron would step in, acting like a typical father, and the three would banter back and forth. It was old behavior; they did it almost every morning.

But for some reason it seemed so funny this morning. Maybe it was the familiar sense of normalcy in a rapidly changing environment.

Whatever it was, it was funny and comforting. Ginny had a feeling that things wouldn't be like that for a long, long time, if ever again.

* * *

Sirius was not waking up. Remus had tried almost everything. He had poured water on him, he had threatened withholding sex, he had jumped up and down on the bed, he had banged things, he had threatened to spell acne on Sirius' face, and he had even said that he'd have an affair with Severus if Sirius didn't wake up.

It didn't work.

He gave a sigh, turning around to the door. If Sirius wasn't going to wake up, he wasn't going to get to say good bye to the kids, mostly Harry.

Upon opening the door he was faced with Harry.

"Good Morning. We're about to leave…is Sirius up?" Remus badly wanted to hold Harry, lock him up with Sirius, and not let him go to Hogwarts. But Albus would never allow that. 'Stupid, old, conceded-' His mind rant was cut off by Harry.

"Sirius, you said you wanted to come with us to the station." Harry nudged his godfather's shoulder. Remus watched in shock and amusement when Sirius rose out of bed like a Vampire in a muggle movie.

"I'll be right down. Don't leave without me." Harry gave the older man a blinding smile, but his eyes ruined the happiness; he looked ready to cry.

* * *

Platform nine and three-quarters was a nightmare like it always is. Mad-Eye, Tonks, the Weasley's, and Sirius in dog form just added to the chaos. Children were shouting, parents were giving last hugs and kisses, animals were loose, and there were so many people.

The twins had taken all of their trunks up to the Train, promising not to tamper with them in any way. The only reason anyone believed them was because Harry had threatened to castrate them if they so much as thought of touching his stuff; the Twins took that to mean everyone's stuff.

"I feel shorter than usual." Harry said in a semi-annoyed voice. He was standing in-between Ron and Draco, both over five feet eight inches, while he stood at barely five feet. All of Hogwarts' fourth years were taller then he was now. Ginny and Luna were probably the average height of the fourth years, and they were five feet five inches.

Ron draped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're short, you'll always be short. If you want to blame something, blame the Dursley's."

"Oh, yes, because that's so mature." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"You're fifteen, Harry, screw maturity." Draco spoke for the first time around anyone else that morning. Harry gave him an annoyed look.

"I hate you, Draco. And your height. Stupid tall people…with their…tallness; I'm going to stand by Snuffles, at least _he's_ shorter then me!" Migrating over to Snuffles was a bit challenging, he almost got ran over twice by passing students.

Standing next to Snuffles also had him standing next to six foot tall Tonks and Arthur Weasley. He scowled.

"This is so not fair! Ron, get over here, NOW!" Harry shouted the last word out, which was the loudest anyone had heard him that whole summer. Ron was soon in front of Harry, who demanded Ron gave him a piggy back ride, because he was taller.

"Your logic makes no sense, Harry, none!" Ron laughed out, as he hosted Harry onto his back. Tonks and the Weasley's had amused looks, while the rest of the teenagers openly laughed at Harry and Ron's behavior.

"Wow…I'm so tall…"Harry looked around them, able to finally see over the tops of the majority of the students hustling here and there.

"NEVILLE! HEY NEVILLE!" Hermione had located Neville Longbottom. She was jumping up and down, waving her arm in the air. The plump boy smiled; red in the face from the people staring at him and Hermione alternately, as he came over.

"Hey, guys." He blinked at Draco's presence.

"Yo." Draco nodded his head at the other boy, who smiled awkwardly.

"Um…Hi…?" He looked up at Harry, confused. Harry grinned down at him.

"Explain later. Let's get on the train. Ron, Ginny say good bye to your Mum and Dad." Ron and Ginny rolled their eyes at Harry as they walked to their parents to give them hugs and goodbyes. Harry got a hug and a kiss from Molly, as he refused to get off Ron. The teens all gave pets to Snuffles before they left, Neville included.

The seven teens found a compartment near the end of the train that they all filled into. Harry was moved to sit, more or less, squished in between Draco and Ron. Ginny sat herself on Luna's lap while Neville and Hermione sat comfortably next to each other.

"I take it Malfoy not only knows about you two," Neville pointed to Luna and Ginny, "but is also to be trusted in our little gang of friends?" Harry nodded to him.

"You seem to be taking this well." Draco said. Neville looked at him for a long moment.

"Oh, I'll question you later, make sure for myself that you can be trusted. But not now; Harry's already under a lot of stress as it is."

"Why do you say that?" Draco sounded snappy and annoyed. He'd developed a migraine from all the noise on the platform.

"Because he was clingy with Ron. He only ever does that when he's majorly stressed out. Most of the older students who pick on him already found that out. It doesn't take a genius, Malfoy." That migraine was growing, pounding the inside of his head. He pondered if perhaps it would split open.

"Please stop arguing, you two are stressing me out more then I already am. No one here wants to see me when I get psycho stressed out; it's not pretty." Harry's voice reminded Draco of when they were in Limbo, gentle, soothing.

His migraine was starting to go away by the time the Train was on its way to Hogwarts.

* * *

Harry didn't like Lavender Brown. Hermione didn't like her, either. And if she leaned onto Ron _one more time_, heads would roll.

"Oh, Won-Won, I had the most best summer! How was yours? Was it good?" Lavender leaned closer, if possible, to Ron squashing her breasts against his arm. He was attempting to lean away from her, but that was difficult on a couch, like the ones in the common room.

"Lavender, use proper grammar, please." Hermione's hands were gripping her book so hard her knuckles were white. Harry was gritting his teeth, chanting to himself in his head.

'Don't kill her, Don't kill her, Don't kill her.'

"It was eventful." Ron attempted to lean further away from the teenage girl; said teen wrapped her arms around his waist, almost climbing onto his lap.

Harry shot out of his chair, glaring murder at Lavender before stomping over to the couch. Hermione, Ginny, and the twins looked on in amusement.

Harry grabbed Ron's other arm, hauling him up and sending Lavender to the ground. He gave her a mockery of a smile, more of a sneer.

"Oh, sorry. I have to talk to Ron about some things." He started to head for the dorm, when Lavender's hand shot out to grasp Ron's robes.

"He doesn't want to spend time with you, you attention-seeking, lying, evil murderer!" The whole common room silenced. While the majority of Gryffindor had not only read, but believed the Daily Prophet, no one had dared to say so right to Harry's face just yet. They were content to talk behind his back.

"Lavender, don't you EVER call him that. Are you incapable of thinking for yourself?" Ron was so angry that he couldn't even manage to find his shouting voice. Lavender shrunk back from him.

The two disappeared upstairs. Once gone, the room exploded in conversations.

"Did you see that? Potter must have brainwashed Weasley-"

"Weasley and Potter have always seemed so close, so of course they're both evil-"

"Maybe Potter is right and the Prophet _is_ wrong. I mean, he's our Savior…"

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, and then made eye contact with the twins.

This was going to be a hard year.

* * *

Ron and Harry were sitting on Harry's bed, the curtains drawn.

"I really don't see why you're freaking out, Harry." Harry was making himself comfortable, obviously intending to go to sleep after this conversation. He was holding his teddy bear close.

"I don't like her, Ron. _I don't like her_." Harry glared at nothing in particular. "Something's wrong… I don't know what it is… but something is wrong." He frowned. Ron carded his hand through his hair. He recognized this look by now, Harry was going to See something tonight.

Probably something important, something he might not want to See.

"Why do you trust Draco Malfoy?" This was a question that had been bothering him for some time now. This was the perfect excuse to ask it, when neither one wanted to know what Harry might See.

He didn't expect Harry to look that sad.

"I trust him, because he is mine. You asked me once who my love songs were for. I told you they were for my Other. Do you remember?" Ron nodded. "Draco Malfoy is my Other."

"How do you know? When did you find out? You could be wrong-"

"No. I knew the first time I laid my eyes on him. I've known. Ron… please, I haven't seen my Other in such a long time…" Ron looked away.

"Will you ever tell me about you and your Other?"

"Not yet. I can't, but I will. You're my Blood-Brother."

The two shared a bed that night, and Ron was right.

Harry did See something he didn't want to.

* * *

A/N: I know you hate me for that cliff hanger. But I had to do it. Review, please!!

See, it made me update faster!


	7. Chapter 7

"Blah." Talking

"_Blah_" Parseltongue

'Blah' Thinking

_Blah _Memories/Flashbacks

Author's Note: I have fixed the issue with Harry's age, thank you again to the person who pointed it out to me, you know who you are.

* * *

"Play the Tune, Dance the Tune, Live the Tune.

Gentle crying, Hide-and-seek.

Run, my baby, run.

Don't believe your mother,

Don't believe you father.

Remember the sorrow of Agamemnon."

There was water. That much was certain in the abyss. Lots of water.

Was that a cry? Maybe a child? Yes, it was a baby. A baby wrapped in silk.

Tonks was there suddenly, just... there, for seemingly no reason.

The baby was crying.

Tonks picked the child up, then promptly shoved it underneath the water. It couldn't breath.

As it weakly struggled against Tonks' grip, a maniacal grin formed across her face.

The baby was dead.

* * *

Harry bolted upright, panting. Ron was rubbing his back, softly humming to him.

"What was it? Quickly, before you forget."

"Tonks. She- she was drowning a baby. Something… something about Agamemnon and… a Tune." Harry finally thought to look around. It was very dark. He frowned. Looking over at Ron revealed his friend's tiredness.

"It's three in the morning, before you ask." Ron yawned out.

"Go back to sleep. I'm going to take a shower. I'm all sweaty." Ron laughed, softly muttering about having two girls as friends and not just one.

* * *

"WHAT?!" Angelina Johnson's voice crashed throughout the Great Hall. All noise stopped. The Professors shot disapproving looks down to her, McGonagall took points. But that didn't seem to faze her. She was out of her seat and in front of the Headmaster very quickly.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, HEADMASTER?" Her voice getting so high Angelina made a high pitched screech; Albus cringed

"You moved the matches. Gryffindor ALWAYS goes against Slytherin first. ALWAYS! You have Ravenclaw and Slytherin up for the first lineup! Headmaster, you wrote it wrong, right?" Angelina sounded so hopeful at that last note. 'He made a mistake, that's all. It happens. He's going to agree; we'll be up with Slytherin…'

"I'm afraid that I didn't make a mistake, dear. I did that on purpose. Thought it would remove some tension between your houses." Albus' twinkle was on full-force. He spoke kindly, as if to a much younger child, not a young adult.

Angelina blushed to her roots, before going furiously back to her seat.

Hermione looked at Ron in shock. The two of them turned to Harry, who had his head in his hands, muttering faintly so only the two of them could hear.

"That means Gryffindor doesn't go against Slytherin until after February. That sucks." He sounded annoyed to the untrained ear. But to the two of them, he sounded tired. Hermione turned to Ron questionably. He leaned towards her, lowering his voice.

"I'll tell you later, not now."

* * *

The common room stared. Jaws were on the floor, some people had fainted. The Gryffindor Quidditch team seemed caught between anger and bemusement. The Creevey brothers looked like Christmas had come early. They were all staring at Harry.

He was wearing a corset top, non attached sleeves, a skirt, stockings, and female platform boots. The whole outfit was alternately silver and green. The fact that Harry had no breasts to speak of, as he was male, didn't seem to hinder the outfit in any way. The skirt went down to his knees, where the stockings took over; the stockings with the Slytherin emblem on them.

"What?" Harry arched an eyebrow at everyone. An eruption of sound filled the cramped space.

"What are you wearing?"

"On my God, where did you get that?"

"Only the evil are in Slytherin! This is proof, he's wearing their colors!"

"Is that even in the dress code?"

"Can you see Professor Snape's face when he sees Potter in that?"

"Why the HELL are you wearing that?"

The last comment was made by the Weasley Twins in bemusement. Harry turned to look at them, grinning.

"I wanted to see if the Slytherin Team liked this outfit. So, I'll wear it today, then again for the first match." Harry's explanation caused silence, until Angelina exploded.

"YOU ARE A GRYFFINDOR! YOU SHOULD NOT ROOT FOR THE ENEMY!"

Harry blinked at her, all amusement gone in a flash.

"If they don't win this match, there is a chance they will never face us this year. I don't want that. Therefore, they HAVE to win this match, that way WE can wipe the floor with them. I won't have it any other way."

Angelina looked impressed.

* * *

Draco looked at the ceiling of his dorm. He could truly say he was a fool in his younger years. Looking back, he couldn't believe he was so stupid as to think of the Dark Lord as someone to look up to. The man was mad, a murderer, and had no idea what he was doing.

What had caused him to start thinking for himself? Who had caused him to rethink his ideals?

He first thought it was his father, Lucius Malfoy, figurehead of the Malfoy clan. The King of Deception some called him. He always thought his father was an avid Blood Supremacist. He thought his father would be proud of him if he was the same.

He was wrong.

His father did not believe in what Voldemort did. As a young adult, he had fallen for the lie that was Lord Voldemort's service, but he had soon discovered that what the Dark Lord was doing was madness and disgusting. But he was in too deep by then; he could not simply decide to leave. He believed in the old ways, as they are referred to now; he believed in separation. Yet he did not think muggleborns were below him; he sneered at them because of the image he had to keep up. Even after the war, he had to keep the mask on, to keep his family safe from those he had once called "comrades."

His father was a strong man, but he had not caused his change in thoughts. Even before his father told him about his life, something had changed. What was it?

Yes that must have been it.

It was his Mother.

More specifically, his mother's death.

His mother was a normal pureblood mother. She didn't raise him until he was over seven. Before that, it was all the house-elves' doing. Even then, all she did was shower him with material possessions.

Narcissa was selfish, she was vain, but she wasn't cruel or cold. She was his mother, and he loved her very much. She had always been the one to spoil Draco, tell him she loved him very much; she made him cocky, arrogant.

After Lord Voldemort came back, he was very angry at Draco's father. He was angry at everyone, really, but he expressed his anger for Lucius more then anyone else. He ordered one of his Death Eaters to do it: Narcissa was raped, placed under the Cruciatus Curse, and then killed.

Until Draco found out about that, he thought joining Lord Voldemort would be an honor, the "cool" thing to do. He actually thought he would have _enjoyed_ killing innocent people. Often times, he'd imagine torturing and killing Hermione and other "mudbloods" like her.

He didn't know shit back then, and thinking of those times made him want to hurl. How he could have ever wanted to hurt Hermione was beyond his comprehension now. She was the sweetest, most compassionate, patient, real girl he'd ever met. He could see what Ron saw in her, and if he were straight, he might even be attracted to her himself.

"Hey, Draco, morning time. Food, class, all that good stuff." Blaise Zabini floated into his dorm. As a fifth year everyone got their own dorms down in the dungeons. Out of everyone in Slytherin, only two people were still classified as friends. Everyone else was silently plotting to kill him, he was sure. Severus and the looming threat of not only the Malfoy clan, but also the Ministry of Magic, was the only thing protecting him. For now.

Later on, he'd have to get charms on his door, make sure no one can just enter it. He'd have to think about how he was going to do that.

Coming into the Great Hall he was met with silence, which was just odd. Looking up he realized why it was so quiet.

Harry was calmly sitting at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast. Everyone was staring at him, for he was wearing not only female clothes, but Slytherin colors as well. Not only that, but Severus' face was pretty humorous: he looked like the apocalypse had been announced. Of course the other teachers looked either scandalized, slightly flustered, or… pissed off?

He looked again.

Professor Umbridge and her pet Auror Tonks, who was, of course, with the Order, both looked furious. The professor he could understand, his father did say the Ministry was buckling under Dark Order pressure, but Tonks… why was _she_ so angry?

'Umbridge must have said something to her; that's probably why she's mad.'

Looking away from them back to Harry was a mistake. Harry had caught sight of him and was smiling at him, eyes sparkling with ill-concealed delight. Draco's breath caught in his chest.

"Oh, Merlin. Shit, Draco, he's… he's… great!" Blaise's voice seemed distant but seemed to make his feet move. Before he knew what was happening, he was in front of the Gryffindor table, across from Harry.

"So, do you like it?" Harry's voice wrapped around him, stole his thoughts, and left him grasping for words briefly.

"What possessed you to wear that?" He made sure to keep his voice teasing. Harry's smile never wavered.

"I made it for the Quidditch game. You like it, don't you?" A tilt of Harry's head exposed his neck and Draco found the words he was looking for to describe Harry.

Sexy. Hot. Provocative.

"You look fine. And… that could work really well as a distraction." Draco was beyond happy he hadn't blushed since he was twelve.

"See you in class, Draco." Harry left the hall, hips swaying making him look even more like a female from behind.

'And speaking of behinds… Damn.' Draco was sure his thoughts were mirrored by the rest of the Hall; strangely enough, the thought made him… jealous.

There was something else, something just in the back of his mind…

* * *

Harry leaned against a wall along the corridor leading to the History of Magic classroom, his first class of the day. Eyes closed, panting slightly, he let the smile creep onto his face. Draco didn't know it yet, but he was remembering things.

The smile faded.

No, that was bad. He didn't… he didn't want his Other to remember things. Memories would hurt him.

"I am selfish." His voice betrayed his broken thoughts. Ron and Hermione, who were with him silent until now, reached out to touch his shoulder.

"No you aren't." Two voices blending into one did not help Harry's mental state.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Harry slid to the floor gasping. There were too many memories in his head. "It hurts." He clutched at his head.

_A tender kiss, comforting._

_Hands followed by kisses, arching, eyes open and seeing nothing._

"_I love you." Whispered into the air as a last breath is drawn._

_The sun setting, descending into the sea. Flames lick the Heavens as a scream rips through the air. Pain, Desperation, Love, Hate, Sorrow… so much sorrow. _

_A teardrop falling into the abyss that is death. _

_Thanatos smoothing down a woman's hair, as she screamed out her loss, hurt, anger, hate, and sanity. _

Ron's face loomed in, a worried expression causing his freckles to fade a tad.

"I'm okay now." Hermione grasped Harry's arms, hauling him up. He smoothed down his skirt aiming a smile at the two of them.

He was fine now.

* * *

Harry was going to die. He was sure of it. Why is it that _every damn time _he gets paired with Draco in Potions? Why? It was more tolerable when Draco had a strong dislike of him; at least then, Draco wasn't so close or comfortable around him.

Damn it, with his luck he was going to end up jumping Draco and getting expelled for indecency.

'He just brushed his hand against mine again…' A jolt of electricity accompanied this thought to Harry's brain. Potions was always torture for Harry, for most of the time he was paired with Draco. Back in the day, when Draco had immense dislike for him, the other boy was more aware of himself. He never touched Harry, never alternately stared at Harry for no reason out of the corner or his eyes, and never flipped his hair like that.

The disturbed air slammed into Harry's senses. Draco smelt good, not in an I'm-a-magical-creature-oh-Merlin-you're-my-mate way, but in a you-smell-too-good-to-be-real-damn-you way. Draco smelt like winter, rain, sweat, and chocolate.

_And it was driving Harry mad. _

"Class Dismissed."

Harry packed up, glided over to Ron and Hermione, and then glided out the door. Yes, Glided. He didn't walk; walking was too slow. He needed to get out of that classroom that second.

* * *

Ginny's mouth moved along Luna's collarbone, hands resting on the middle of Luna's back, holding her shirt on. Luna's hands rested on Ginny's shoulders, legs tangled with her girlfriend's.

It didn't occur to the two girls to be concerned that they skipped their first class to cuddle, nor did it concern them that they were in the Gryffindor common room, where anyone could see them if they came through the portrait door.

What did concern them was hearing Ron's loud, thundering voice suddenly.

"GINERVA WEASLEY! YOU ARE IN A COMMON ROOM! 30 POINTS FROM BOTH RAVENCLAW AND GRYFFINDOR FOR BORDERLINE PUBLIC INDECENCY! PUT. YOUR. GIRLFRIEND'S. SHIRT. BACK. ON!"

Ron's disapproving yell was followed by Hermione's This-is-so-widely-inappropriate-I-shouldn't-be-laughing laugh and Harry's girls-will-be-girls chuckle.

"I was holding her shirt on, Ronald!" Ginny glared up at her older brother while Luna calmly placed her shirt back upon her shoulders and buttoned it up.

"It's the principle of the notion, Ginny! If you are going to be intimate, please do it in your dorms. I can't handle seeing you two… I still see my little sister who is this big," Here Ron held his hands close together, to the size Ginny would have been as an infant.

"You weren't old enough to remember me being that little, you bloody retard!" And the two bickered back and forth playfully.

Harry laughed his head off as he went upstairs to the fifth year boys dorms. Hermione quickly swapped books before leaving for her class, telling Ron to be easy on his sister.

It wasn't long after the two had stopped bickering that Harry returned downstairs.

"We all need to talk." Luna and Ginny gave Harry their full attention. Ron yanked Harry down into his lap, earning an undignified yelp and a smack across the head.

"Ron, is there something you need to tell us about you and Harry's relationship?" Luna asked, while staring at Harry's hands, which were folded on his lap. Ron grinned at the blonde, while Harry gave her one of his sad smiles.

"We need to talk about Lavender Brown." Harry's voice took on its feminine tone, which meant he was pissed off about something.

"Isn't Big Brother dating her?" Ginny usually didn't call Ron "Big Brother," but did it when referring to his relationships. Somewhat like how the Twins called him "Ronkinns".

Harry gave off his creepy smile, which made the girls shrink away from him.

"Yes. That Lavender." Harry and Lavender had "issues" this year. Well, actually, it was every year it appeared. In Harry's Fourth year, she helped Rita Skeeter and the Slytherins in their "Humiliate-Harry" plan. In his Third year, she spread a few slanderous rumors about him around. In his Second year, she help endorse the idea that Harry was Slytherins heir, and in his First, she was just annoying.

But this year seemed to be the worst. Lavender and Ron had started to date, regardless of what she had said about Harry the first night he was at Hogwarts. Lavender didn't like Ron hanging out with Harry because of her "beliefs" and didn't like him hanging out with Hermione because she was another girl. She was hogging all of Ron's attention, and Harry didn't like that.

"Have you or Luna noticed anything odd about Lavender's behavior this year?" Harry addressed Ginny, who worried her bottom lip before answering. It did not escape Harry's, or Ron's, notice that Luna watched Ginny intently.

"She seems to be more set against you, but that's not really anything new. It just pisses me off. She never shuts up about it!" Ginny scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. Luna nodded along with Ginny's assessment; she hadn't noticed anything different.

"What's bothering you about her? And, please, say more then you're jealous." Harry shot Ron a disgruntled look.

"There's something different, something not quite right about her this year." He furrowed his brow. "She has a dark spot around her neck… right where the neck meets the body. It gets darker sometimes and I don't know what it is."

"Dark spot?" Ginny cuddled closer to Luna as she asked this question. Harry looked at the two of them for a long moment before speaking.

"You both know I have problems with my eyes, right?" The girls nodded, they knew this. The whole school knew, of course, that he wore glasses. But as always that wasn't the whole story. Ginny and Luna found out about Harry's eyes by accident.

_Ginny and Luna were quietly spending their afternoon in the library, as they usually did. Even with two other schools at Hogwarts, the main library was still a fairly deserted space. _

_Luna's hair fell into her eyes. Ginny's hand twitched as if it wanted to touch Luna's hair, briefly Ginny wondered what Luna would do if Ginny let her hands do what they wanted. The innuendo of such a mental comment made Ginny blush. _

_Harry came around the corner then, looking slightly panicked. _

"_Oh, thank the heavens! Ginny, Luna, hide me, please! He's right behind me, please hide me!" Ginny, not really thinking, shoved him in between the wall and the table. She made herself ready for anything, and saw Luna tense in anticipation. _

_Needless to say, they were shocked when Cedric Diggory came around the corner. Upon seeing Ginny, the older boy smiled charmingly. _

"_Have you see Harry Potter?" Ginny, realizing that this was who Harry had been desperate to hide from, simply shook her head. The boy looked disappointed as he left. _

_Ginny turned to look at Harry, only then noticing that the boy had somehow lost his glasses and was hiding his eyes from the sunlight streaming in through a window. It was too much for the girl, who started laughing so hard her ribs hurt. _

_Luna seemed somewhat alarmed, getting out of her chair to pull the laughing girl to the ground underneath the table. It was a mistake to do so, as Ginny promptly fell over and all three heard the crunch of Harry's glasses, followed by Harry's groaning. _

_The sound made Ginny stop laughing almost immediately. But upon getting off the glasses, something struck Ginny as odd. The lenses were dark brown instead of clear; they almost looked like the lenses of muggle sunglasses. Looking at Harry to ask him a question about the glasses almost made her scream._

_Harry's face looked like something out of a nightmare. His eyes were caked shut with blood running in small tear shaped tracks. It looked as if he were crying blood. The initial shock of seeing him in such a state wore off and she found her voice._

"_Harry… what?" Luna had moved more under the table, seemingly ignoring the two of them in favor of the bottom of the table they were under. _

"_Move a bit more under the table, at least so I'm out of the sunlight. You don't want to see my eyes when they are exposed to sunlight without my glasses." Ginny did as she was told in silence. _

_Once under the table, Harry grabbed a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Upon finishing, he opened his eyes to look at the two girls. The green was bleeding out into the white of his eyes. His pupils were different too, almost like a cat, but not quite long enough. _

"_My eyes aren't like yours." Ginny had never heard a bigger understatement. "My glasses are not normal glasses. I put a spell on them to block out the sun and subsequently make them into muggle sunglasses. As you saw earlier, my eyes bleed when exposed to the sun. It doesn't hurt or anything, but it is a very… unsettling visual, you know?" _

_Luna seemed to tune in then, holding out a string with nothing on it for Harry to look at. He stared at it for a long time, before looking to Luna. _

"_When you want to speak, you will have to tell me where you got that." He looked at Ginny. "To answer your question, no, that isn't the only thing different about my eyes: I can see magic for one. But don't go spreading that around all right?" Ginny and Luna nodded with enthusiasm. _

"_Pinky promise?" He held up both of his pinky fingers._

So, there was something the matter with Lavender Brown; something Harry could see.

"This dark spot is almost like seeing hate." Harry spoke softly, eyes gazing at something only he could see. "It waxes and wanes. Sometimes, it is almost like a horrid stench, and then the stench seems to fade. When the dark spot gets dark, it almost looks like a symbol of some sort, but most of the time her clothes cover it when I try to make it out. It is very frustrating." That caught Luna's attention.

"Do you think she's a Death Eater?" Everyone looked at her in shock, even Harry looked surprised.

"No. The Dark Mark actually isn't seen with the symbol; it's seen as an ever present abyss. I can't even see a Death Eater's arm that has the Dark Mark on it." Luna sighed. "It was a good suggestion though." Harry added, looking at Luna.

"Would it help if you could see her in one place with her shirt off?" Ginny asked, finger resting on her lips.

"Yes, actually… And how do you plan on accomplishing that, Ginny dear?"

Ginny looked at Luna, before promptly dragging her up to the girls dorms, calling out to the two remaining boys.

"I'll have a plan by dinner!"

* * *

He was lucky Divination was a crap class. It gave him more time to help Ron in learning useful things.

Currently they were finishing Danish. With this language, Ron would not only be caught up with Harry and Hermione, who learned faster then he did, but would also know twelve different languages. It was not a feat many could brag about.

A dramatic gasp from their professor drew a sigh from Harry and a quiet chuckle from Ron.

"Mr. Potter… oh, I'm so sorry… you… you poor child! You will die, tonight. A bad case of indigestion. Oh, so sorry." Harry could feel his eye twitching. Then an idea struck.

"Professor, I have two questions, real quick, and then you can get back to your class. What will the weather be like tonight and will my outfit get me into trouble?" Ron couldn't hold it in any longer and just started laughing. Several other people did as well, most others were floored that Harry had said something so suggestive.

Needless to say, fifty points were docked from Gryffindor for indecency and crudeness.

* * *

Harry's eyes hurt. Why, oh why, was this woman so fond of pink?! And Tonks' _hair_. Harry couldn't tell if it was normal pink or neon magenta.

"You won't need your wands, books out please." Professor Umbridge said. The mixed class of Slytherins and Gryffindors exchanged glances. Those words were never good in a Defense classroom.

By the time Harry was in McGonagall's Office holding a biscuit, he wasn't sure who he was more annoyed at: himself for losing his patience, or Tonks for smirking the whole damn time that toad of a woman showed her real reason for being at Hogwarts.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

"Blah." Talking

"_Blah_" Parseltongue

'Blah' Thinking

_Blah _Memories/Flashbacks

_Blah_ Dreams

Author's Notes: LOOK EVERYONE!! I was able to get this chapter up before 2008! YAY!!

* * *

"I have a plan." Ginny whispered to Harry and Ron as the three of them were walking into the Great Hall for dinner. The youngest redhead walked over to sit with Luna at the Ravenclaw table. Hermione was already eating, sandwiched between the Twins, who appeared to be asking her something.

The second Ron and Harry took their seats across from Hermione, the world tilted abruptly. This tilt had a name: Lavender Brown. Harry's head connected to the ground with a crack as he was shoved violently off the bench. The Great Hall, almost as one, winced.

"Oh, Won Won, it was HORRIBLE! I was teased something awful today by that ugly Parkinson cow! She wouldn't leave me alone!" Lavender was trying to sound coy, but she just sounded constipated. Harry rubbed the back of his head as he got up off the floor.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, Potter. You want something?" Lavender turned around, flipping her hair in Harry's face. Harry glared at her and was about to say something, when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Is there a problem Lavender?" Tonks' voice sent a chill down Harry's spine, and there were alarms sounding in Harry's head.

'Away. Get away from her'

"No, Ms. Tonks. No problem. Potter was just going to leave." Lavender smiled up at Tonks, which caused the young Auror to release Harry. Harry glared at Lavender before walking, shaking with rage, out of the Great Hall.

Ginny's whispered words came to his mind and he hoped she didn't do this "plan" in the Great Hall.

* * *

Albus called the Order meeting to silence. He tiredly whipped his glasses on his sleeve, causing a few members to look on in worry.

"We need to discuss Dolores Umbridge and her influence on the students." No sooner then the words came out of his mouth, pandemonium swept through the room.

"She's a menace to education!"

"She is hindering the students from being able to defend themselves!"

"There are accusations of her threatening the staff; the students!"

"She thinks she can turn this school into her own army for the Ministry?"

"Dolores is a wonderful person, who is just doing her job! She's an upstanding citizen, and just abiding by the law!"

The last comment made everyone look in shock at Tonks. She was glaring at everyone, her hands clenched on the table.

"You can't say she's a bad person; she is good. WE are the ones that are the unlawful rebels! Look at us, talking about uprooting the Ministry, believing a lying, attention-seeking-" That was as far as she got before Molly Weasley punched her from across the table. As Tonks got up, she looked furious, the whole table looked shocked at Molly's actions. Even Molly herself looked at her hand in amazement, not quite believing what just happened.

* * *

"That's my shirt!" Lavender accused, pointing dramatically at Ginny's blouse. Ginny looked up at the older girl with an annoyed expression.

"Give it back!" Lavender grabbed a handful of Ginny's hair, yanking her out of her seat towards the dorms. Ginny somehow managed to smack the older girl and from there, an all out catfight occurred.

Hands yanked at hair, faces were slapped, Ginny got a good kick in, and Lavender finally remembered she was a witch and got out her wand. Ginny dove for it the second it was in the older girl's hand. Lavender slapped Ginny across the face as the two went tumbling to the ground.

Ron and Harry were looking on in amazed helplessness. A rip sounded through the room suddenly. Ginny had ripped a portion of Lavender's shirt off, right over the black spot Harry had been trying to see since the beginning of school. This was it: this was Ginny's plan.

The black spot on the girl was darker then ever, and it emitted a horrid stench, like a thousand corpses. The more Harry looked at it, the more he wanted to hurl. The stench was overpowering, but it was nothing in comparison to the emotions.

This spot was saturated in emotions: fear, despair, helplessness, hopelessness, rage and hate. Harry placed the back of his palm against his mouth, almost losing the contents of his stomach. Ron and Hermione pulled both girls past him, with the intent to bring them to McGonagall.

Later, as he was huddled in the shower crying, he could not recall how he got upstairs.

* * *

_The first thing Harry was aware of was that he was being roughly grabbed by the arms. The next thing was that he was also being dragged somewhere. _

_What was going on? Where was he?_

"_Please, let go of me! I'm sorry, I'll do what ever you want, PLEASE!" His voice begged and shouted at the faceless people. _

_A door opened in front of him, and he was pulled in._

_He was strapped to a table, there was something wet underneath him, his heart started beating wildly. The two faceless people grinned down at him manically. He saw the glint of silver. _

_I don't want to die._

_I Don't Want To Die. _

_I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Ron knew that most of Hogwarts was under watch by either the Order or Professor Umbridge, if not both. They knew because as Harry was able to see magic, he could also distinguish between different types of magic, or see spells like Moody's eye. He taught Ron and Hermione every privacy spell known to man, and a few that weren't. The two had researched every counter spell to every spying, eavesdropping, and other similar types of spells known to man, all so the three of them were absolutely certain that they were able to have truly private conversations.

And in researching all of that they also noticed something rather nice: both parties of spying adults left every bathroom in Hogwarts clean. There were no spells to see into bathrooms or hear what was going on in them. No monitoring spells to see who was in and at what times. They were clean.

This fact was what brought all three of them into the Prefect's bathroom that Harry had used during Fourth year.

"So… let me get this straight. You are suggesting that instead of simply using the spells I've taught you, that we all take a bath together to have serious conversations." Harry gave Hermione a skeptical look.

"It's a foolproof plan. If they suddenly stop hearing and seeing us often it will get suspicious, and when Ministry officials get suspicious, it is bad. This way we don't go off the radar so much; less suspicion." Hermione sounded so confident and casual.

"Wait, sorry, I can't seem to grasp this concept. You want to actually take a bath… naked… with two other equally naked guys?" Ron sounded incredulous. Hermione gave him a look.

"As long as nothing inappropriate happens, I don't see the problem." Hermione spoke as if to a small child.

"Nothing inappropriate? All three of us taking a bath together seems pretty inappropriate to me." Ron shot back.

"There are such things as shared baths, or public baths, so really it isn't that inappropriate." Harry chimed in. Ron gave him a look as if to say you-are-not-helping-so-hush.

"Two against one, Ron. Besides, we'll all take a bubble bath and have towels." Hermione ended the conversation with a smirk.

* * *

When the trio had first appeared in the bathroom, Ron had turned his back on the two other members of the trio to allow them to get undressed. The humorous thing was, Ron was the only one who was embarrassed. Hermione was nervous, but she trusted the other two boys in the room, so she had no problem getting undressed… but that was mostly due to the amazing girl technique called "Undressing While In A Towel." It consisted of having the towel around your clothed body and taking the clothes off. Hermione was impressed with herself.

Harry on the other hand was far to used to having his body used as a sexual tool for his Uncle that undressing in front of two people he trusted more then himself was easy. Ron, who was at the time in the middle of unclothing himself, ripped the rest of his clothes off while muttering to himself darkly, when Harry had told his two friends that tidbit of information.

They were… comfortable, as strange as it was.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione seriously.

"She's dead." The two blinked in confusion. "Lavender Brown. She's dead."

"Harry, if she's dead… then how is she walking around perfectly normal?" Ron asked.

"It's not possible, even if a necromancer woke her, she would be… not normal. Almost as if she was under Imperius." Hermione added to Ron's assessment of the situation. What Harry was saying was not making sense.

"I know all of that, but I'm telling you: She. Is. Dead." Harry ground out each word with such a certainty that Ron and Hermione knew he was telling the truth.

"That still brings the question of how she is walking about." Ron said, waving his hands around for emphasis.

"I don't know how she's managing that either. We have to figure out the whys first before the how's." Harry allowed himself to sink a bit in the hot bath water of the prefect's tube.

* * *

Draco was scared. He was absolutely terrified as he stood in front of this woman. This was their government? No wonder the Dark Lord wanted a change.

"_Imperio._" Tonks' voice rang out as she placed Cho Chang under the Imperius Cruse. Draco looked at his childhood friends Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson and realized something that was very hard to accept. He could not relate to them. As he watched while they smirked at this poor girl being made to do things against her will, he realized that he truly did not understand them. And, for some reason, that bothered him a lot more then he thought it would.

These thoughts were still running in his head after Umbridge and Tonks had dismissed the Inquisitorial Squad. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he walked right into Severus Snape. Upon realizing who it was, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Professor, I have to talk to you. It's about Chang." He wasn't sure why, but he could have sworn that he heard Harry scream in the back of his mind.

* * *

Harry was going mad. Absolutely, bloody mad. And it was all Draco's fault. Ron looked over at Harry in sympathy. Harry really tried his best to pay attention to Draco's words, but his lips were quite distracting.

'I'll be fine, if Ron doesn't leave us alone.' Harry thought to himself. And, as if he heard him, Ron stood up and left the room. Harry had a fleeting holy-crap moment. But Draco's voice pulled his attention back to the blonde in front of him. Mad. Absolutely Mad.

Harry finally lost what little control he had and kissed Draco. Draco tasted of chocolate and rain. He whimpered, lost in the taste of Draco. How had he denied himself this? Why had he denied himself this?

* * *

Ron pushed Lavender away from him.

"Look, Lavender, Could you just slow down a bit?" Lavender looked at him in calculated confusion.

"Don't you want to do it, Ron?" Lavender asked tilting her head in a manner that she thought was cute.

'Crap. I need to be close to this gossip girl... how am I going to do this without having to have sex with her?'

"Well, Lavender… don't you think it will mean more if we wait?" Ron was desperately hoping that Lavender would agree, otherwise Harry's plan might not work.

'Well, technically, you don't know that. After all you don't even know what his plan is… holy crap, I'm referring to myself in third person.'

"Not really. Everyone is doing it; why wait?"

'Well, there goes our relationshit.'

"Look. I don't want to have sex with you. Not now, or ever. So, I think maybe we should stop dating."

* * *

"What was that?" Draco panted out, looking at Harry with a confused look. Harry was panting too, his hands on both Draco's shoulders, keeping the other boy a safe distance away. He was looking away from Draco, eyes glued to the wall as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet.

"That was me losing the last strand of self-control I have." Harry responded, closing his eyes. He felt Draco's hand on his cheek, forcing him to acknowledge the other person in the room.

"So, I take it you've wanted to do that for awhile?" Draco brought their foreheads together.

"Since Third Year to be precise." Harry ran his hands down Draco's arms, noticing the shiver Draco gave.

"Why?" Curiosity saturated Draco's whispered voice.

"For reasons you would not understand right now." Harry kissed Draco again, whimpering when the other boy pushed him away gently.

"It has something to do with the bond between us, doesn't it?" Harry tilted his head to the right, smiling the creepy, chilling smile that Draco hadn't seen for awhile.

"Yes. No. Doesn't matter. It is there, but it doesn't control me, if that's your question." Harry pushed Draco over, so he was straddling the other boy's waist.

"Are you frightened of me, Draco?" Harry could hear it, the beating of Draco's heart. It was loud to his ears, beating erratically. A steady drum that Harry would constantly have in the back of his mind now that the two were reconnecting.

"No."

"Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"I don't know." Their lips came together again, ending the conversation.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy did not sneak. He did not eavesdrop from around corners. He did not peek into offices, or tiptoe. He did not hunch, period.

He strolled haughtily. He sauntered sexily. He happened to overhear conversations made by incautious idiots. He happened to find his way into other people's offices when they weren't there.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Arthur Weasley whispered from his "hiding" place. The two men were currently spying on Tonks and a young girl from Hogwarts, whose name escaped Lucius. The two of them were in the records room, looking for something or another. The Ministry tended to use the records room like a storage closet. It was hell trying to find anything in there, as things from laws to bloodlines were stored in the room. Even copies of burned or banned books were in this bloody mess of a room.

Speaking of blood, Lucius was sure this book next to him was a copy of _How To Do Blood Magic_ by some distant relative of his. 'Onto other matters: I can't hear them...'

"Shut up, Weasley. I'm getting closer to hear what they're saying." He walked silently to a closer bookshelf. The bookshelf was nothing more then a very big, very wide pile of parchment and books. Lucius spotted the Potter and Weasley bloodlines and quickly handed them to the other man.

"Very good Chang. Just get me that book over there." Tonks spoke as if to a dog, petting the girl's hair in a similar manner. The girl reached towards something out of sight. Lucius shifted where he was so he could try to see the young girl's face. The first thing he saw was her vacant eyes, staring at nothing.

"Shit. The girl's under Imperius." He hissed at Weasley. The other man frowned, fire dancing in his eyes.

"Tonks put _a child_ under Imperius?" Arthur hated adults who harmed children or took advantage of them. It was one of the reasons he was with the Order.

'When did Tonks become the exact type of person I hate?'

"Chang, take that to Umbridge."

Lucius looked at Arthur, confused. 'Umbridge?' He mouthed to the other man. Arthur turned pale, whispering a shaky reply to Lucius' question.

"Umbridge is the new Defense teacher at Hogwarts."

* * *

Harry was walking back from the Dungeons; he had just walked Draco back to his room. On the ground floor he saw the doors open and Cho Chang came slinking inside. She was holding something. Harry stood in the shadows of the entrance to the ground floor, waiting for her to pass him by.

Cho came into the light and Harry immediately recognized the signs of the Imperius curse. He also recognized the book in her arms.

'Shit, what to do, what to do?'

He choice the option that first came to mind: He came out in front of her, blocking her way. Chaos ensued quietly and quickly. She whipped out her wand, his hand enclosed around it, and his other hand connected with the side of her head. She was unconscious before Harry caught her gently, ripping the book from her grasp. He shrunk the book and put it in his pocket. He pulled them both back into the shadows of the dungeon entrance.

The door opened again, and Tonks was coming in.

He got his wand out and pointed it at her temple.

"_Schicht Offen Spielzeug" _Cho changed into a small plush peacock. He picked her up and shrunk even more into the shadows of the entranceway he was in. Tonks passed him by and Harry moved forward quietly. She went upstairs and disappeared into the empty room right next to the stair-top. If he went up those stairs she'd catch him, and he was out after curfew.

The stairs moved and Harry made his way towards them, walking up to the new landing. He looked towards the door to the room he knew Tonks was in. It was cracked open. The stairs leading to the second floor were in the middle of the floor, so he made his way towards them. Upon putting his foot on the first step the door he had been watching opened and Tonks was coming out. Harry froze, looking at her cautiously. She pointed her wand at him, he tensed, preparing to bolt.

"_Stupefy!" _The red light whizzed past Harry as he ducked and bolted upstairs.

"_Confringo!" _Harry was on the third floor now, running with Tonks chasing him.

"_Diffindo!" _Harry dodged that spell as well. He would have fallen if he didn't catch the stairs to the fifth floor. He catapulted up those stairs, hearing Tonks pounding up right behind him. She shot something he didn't catch and he dodged it. The spell hit a portrait and it collapsed into itself. He saw a flash of blond and red fly past.

"_Stupefy!" _Ginny and Luna's voice rang out as one. He turned around to see Tonks dodge, grabbing Luna and throwing her down the stairs. She cried out as she hit the forth floor.

"_Confringo!" _Ginny shouted. Her spell hit Tonks' shoulder, covering Ginny in blood as it exploded. Tonks fell, but was getting up. Ginny turned to Harry.

"RUN!" Harry nodded, turning and heading to the stairs leading up. On the sixth floor he heard footsteps again, turning he saw Tonks, wand in hand, left arm missing. He pounded up the stairs once more, landing on the seventh floor.

As he got closer to the gargoyle he realized he didn't know the password.

"_Please, open!" _He didn't really expect the request to come out in parseltongue, but he didn't care when he saw the gargoyle jump to the side. He threw himself onto the moving stairs, breathing out in relief when the gargoyle closed right before Tonks could get to him.

When the door he was leaning against opened he fell onto his back. Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Lucius, Arthur, and Mad-eye were all in the room. Sirius shot up, helping Harry up, fussing over him in a fatherly fashion.

"Hi." The occupants in the room gave him a funny look.

"What happened, dear boy?" Dumbledore asked him, giving him a look.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

"Blah." Talking

"_Blah_" Parseltongue

'Blah' Thinking

_Blah _Memories/Flashbacks

_Blah_ Dreams

* * *

Lucius and Arthur just finished telling Dumbledore the events that happened in the Ministry when he flooed for Remus, Sirius, and Mad-eye. As the old man repeated the events of what he was told, the alarms in the office went off. These alarms sounded when fighting occurred in Hogwarts.

"Two students must be dueling again. Hold on." Albus sounded like this happened a lot, and as Lucius thought about his days at Hogwarts, he realized that this sort of thing must happen at least once weekly.

When he opened the door, Harry tumbled backwards. It was obvious that he had run here: he was sweaty and panting, and his glasses were askew. Black, true to his nature, immediately started to fawn over the boy.

"What happened, dear boy?" Lucius wondered if Albus called everyone 'dear boy' to avoid having to remember any names. The boy took out a stuffed plushy and a shrunken book, and put them on Albus' desk. Harry then moved the plushy to the ground and spoke a reverse incantation. It its' place was the girl that Lucius and Arthur saw at the Ministry.

"Tonks attacked me when I stopped Cho and took that book from her. Ginny and Luna were, at best, injured from Tonks attacking them on the fourth floor, or the fifth, I don't really remember." The second Miss Weasley's name was mentioned Arthur was out the door, and after Harry finished his explanation, Albus told Remus to follow the older man. Mad-Eye was dispatched to find Tonks.

The older man came back in the office in less then a minute, a stunned one-armed Tonks in tow.

"Who took off her arm?" Mad-eye's gruff voice asked, a lop-sided smile on his face.

"Gin'." Harry responded with a grin. Lucius was impressed; it wasn't every fourth year that could say she took a trained Auror's arm off.

* * *

"Luna, Luna, Luna." Ginny called out to the fallen girl, crawling down the stairs towards her. When Luna didn't respond, she started to panic. Whatever Tonks hit her with had broken both her knees, she was sure of it. And, damn, did it _hurt_.

She wasn't aware of her tears when she reached Luna's side, panting as she laid her head over her girlfriend's. Her head was aching from the effort of dragging herself down the stairs, and her vision was fading in and out.

"Well, well, well. This is certainly something I can use to my advantage. Good evening, Miss Weasley." Umbridge's fake simper was the last thing she heard for a while.

* * *

"Why did Umbridge want this book so badly, Tonks?" Albus asked the younger girl gently. She sneered and didn't answer. This should have been impossible, as they had poured Veritaserum down her throat eight minutes ago. Harry was getting annoyed; Arthur and Remus hadn't come back yet.

He looked around Dumbledore's office and his eyes landed on a candle stand. The candle was missing from its top, and it looked like it was there only for decoration.

"Tonks, what did she want with this book? What is it?" Lucius tried this time, voice promising pain, if there was no answer. Harry looked over just in time to see Tonks spit in his direction. Sirius made a frustrated sound, looking like he wanted to strangle the girl.

'Okay, enough of this bullshit.' He thought as he walked over and grasped the candle stand, and then walked back over to Tonks.

"Tonks, we don't have time for this bullshit. Answer the fucking questions." Harry looked at her coldly, his eyes warning her silently that he was serious. His godfather was looking at him worriedly; it warmed Harry's heart to know Sirius knew him well enough to know he was dead serious about using the candle stand.

"Think you're a big boy, Harry, carrying that big thing around? As if you'd have the guts to actually-" Harry hit her across the face with the candle stand with enough force that she went skidding across the floor a few feet.

Silence danced through the room, 'till it tripped over the sound of Tonks whimpering.

"She- she wanted to give it to the Minister, because he couldn't find it. Only- only someone who is related to someone who knows how to find it can locate the damn thing. The book- the book…" Here Tonks trailed off, ducking her head again as if to cry. Harry had, during her explanation, walked over to Sirius to snuggle into his side like a much younger child.

"The- the book is a recording of Merlin's last years. It- it includes spells lost to time and potions. I knew where it was, but I couldn't get to it myself, so I made Chang get it."

"Why couldn't you get it yourself, Tonks?" Sirius asked, his hands carding through Harry's hair. Harry closed his eyes and let his mind unravel, searching for Ginny and Luna. He was worried about the two of them.

Many people forgot how that, while the mind is a private place, it has a signal unique to itself, like magic and fingerprints. It was all a matter of locating the right signal. But most people forgot this skill long ago, and it was all Merlin's fault. Harry sighed; it all seemed to come back to Merlin one way or another.

Ginny's mind and Luna's mind had a very similar signal, with slight differences; proof that they were soul mates, that they shared the love-bond of _lumen cara. _Ginny's signal was bright red, like fire, but warm as a mother's embrace. Luna's signal was bright as well, warm in the same way Ginny's was, except hers was not red, but silver; silver like the moon she was named after.

Within a minute, he had located them both; they were together that much he was sure. They were in the castle, but before he could figure out where, his attention was abruptly centered on Ron and Hermione's signals. The signals that were currently coming closer to Ginny's and Luna's at a running pace.

Hermione's and Ron's signals were practically intertwined, both a blue flame licking at anything that comes near it. Hermione's was brighter, warmer, while Ron's was darker and colder. It was obvious that the two shared the love-bond _mela zora. _

* * *

Arthur saw his baby girl at the bottom of the flight of stairs he was descending. He saw the toad of a woman, Umbridge, grab her and the other young lady with blonde hair, and walk off with them. He was not fast enough, and he wasn't about to risk either one of the children to get hurt by a spell, so he didn't cast any at the woman.

"Arthur, we'll just follow her. It's all right." Remus' voice made him jump a bit; he hadn't known the other man was there with him. They made their way down the rest of the stairs, following the Defense professor silently. They were utterly unprepared when Ron and Hermione came running around the corner opposite them. Apparently, so was Umbridge.

"_Accio_ Ginny!"

"_Accio_ Luna!"

Ginny and Luna went flying out of Umbridge's arms. Ron caught Ginny, while Hermione barely managed to stay upright when Luna knocked into her. Both girls were set down gently behind the two teenagers. Umbridge raised her arm, wand in hand.

Arthur saw red. With a shouted curse, Umbridge went flying away from his children. She lay slumped in a corner, as Arthur rushed to the children to make sure they were alright.

* * *

Draco knew he should be in bed, asleep, but he really couldn't make himself fall asleep. He was giddy with lingering excitement from his time with Harry. He touched his lips for the nth time that night, savoring the memory of Harry's lips against his.

Harry was gentle and passionate and so very patient. Every time they kissed, Draco felt the night sky meet them, encircle them in a tight embrace.

_Screaming, crying, and insane laughing. There was lots of blood._

Draco frowned. It was happening more often, these glimpses of something that seemed so familiar, yet he knew he'd never experienced. Most people would think they were going crazy if such things were happening to them, but Draco was not most people. He knew people often times recalled moments of their past life. He figured that was what was happening to him.

To remember your past life was both a blessing and a curse. It meant you were more powerful because of the magic involved in breaking open the memories that your soul carried; it also meant that you were different. Draco knew that different often meant dangerous. But more importantly…

What if he had a soul mate that wasn't Harry? The very idea made his chest tighten painfully; his world spun when he thought of this. It hurt to think, to move, to breath.

His world darkened as sleep finally pierced him, dragging him down into her watery arms.

* * *

"MY DAUGHTER, ALBUS! MY BABY GIRL!!" Arthur roared at the old man facing him. "THAT- THAT- _THING_ TRIED TO HARM MY DAUGHTER!! MY BABY GIRL!!" They were discussing Umbridge and what to do with her. Albus knew the Ministry would never take his word, or anyone's word really, that Umbridge had any intention of harming the two fourth years. To them, that toad masquerading as a woman was practically Christ incarnate. It pissed him off, but his anger was nothing compared to Arthur's.

"Arthur, my boy, please calm down. I realize what has happened, but we can't do anything The Ministry-" Albus was cut off by Miss Granger.

"Shouldn't even be interfering with Hogwarts; it is not within their rights, as technically Hogwarts is not on English soil. However, I see the point you are trying to make, Headmaster. Mr. Weasley, please think of Ginny's safety, if Professor Dumbledore did tell someone within the Ministry what happened tonight: Harry would not be alone in the Media's smear campaign. Or worse, because she is a Pureblood and a _Light_ Pureblood, Fudge could easily arrange for her to have an "accident" to make sure she doesn't try to get the public's sympathies. Right now, the only thing keeping Fudge in office is the public opinion. He would not think twice about killing a child to keep that as it is."

Arthur, if possible, looked even paler then a vampire.

They were certainly a sight to behold. Ginny and Luna were unconscious on two infirmary cots, with Ron and Hermione sitting next to Ginny on one bed, ignoring the two chairs nearby. Harry was sitting on Luna's cot, weaving the flowers Madam Pomfrey had conjured for Luna into a tiara. Sirius Black looked slightly bemused as he watched his godson from Luna's other side. Albus and Arthur were standing a few feet away, closer to the cot Umbridge was on. Mad-eye and Remus were staring intently down at Umbridge's body, both silently hoping she would spontaneously combust. Lucius was standing guard over Tonks, having yanked her down when Dumbledore called everyone down to the Infirmary.

Both of the Bloodline books he and Arthur had found in the Ministry records room and the book Tonks tried to make Chang steal were, surprisingly, sitting next to Harry on Luna's bed. They looked innocent enough, but if Severus got his paws on the recording of Merlin's last years… oh the possibilities.

'That book apparently has ancient Potions in it. Severus would be very pleased if he could read that.' Lucius didn't allow that train of thought to go on; if he was daydreaming, Tonks could easily try to get past him. He didn't think she would, as she was crying on the floor, but it was the principle of things.

Ginny opened her eyes slowly. Ron and Hermione smiled down at her, as Ron signaled their father. Before anyone could say anything, her eyes were alert and she sat up, looking widely about the room.

"Luna. Where's Luna?" She sounded and looked panic-stricken. Harry waved his hand to get her attention.

"She's here Gin'. Safe and sound." Ginny, somehow, managed to swing her legs over the edge of her cot and tried to stand. Her older brother and father both tried to get to her, but they weren't quick enough. She fell, as both her knee caps were still broken.

"Ginny!"

Arthur tried to pick her up, but she just desperately attempted to get to Luna, flailing her arms about so he couldn't pick her up. She chanted Luna's name like a mantra, while she was at it.

"Siri', could you please move?" Harry asked his godfather in a tired voice. Sirius blinked, but moved to a chair. Harry stood and gently shooed Arthur out of the way. He then picked Ginny up, flailing arms and all, and moved her so she was laying down on Luna's cot.

Ginny immediately gathered the other girl to her chest, softly running her hands through her girlfriend's blonde hair. Harry sat back down and continued Luna's flower tiara. Ron and Hermione both smiled an amused smile, while Arthur sat down on the cot Ginny had, staring at the two girls like he'd never seen them before.

* * *

Molly Weasley was a woman on a mission. She knew something was wrong, she could feel it in her bones. She shoved her way through Diagon Alley, striding towards the Leaky Caldron. Once inside, she could safely apparate home to see what the problem was.

In theory she could apparate right here, but the chance of accidentally bringing someone with her increased. Ducking into a shop just to apparate out was rude, so here she was shoving her way through the crowd.

She made it to the Leaky Cauldron in record time.

Upon reaching home, she immediately looked at her clock. Among the normal "times" there was an added one: 'In Danger' was printed next to 'Mortal Peril'. She figured it would be nice to know if her family members were in danger, and not necessarily in "mortal peril;" after all, being in danger is easier to get out of then being in mortal peril.

Ron, Ginny, and Harry's hands were pointed to "in danger," Arthur's pointed to "at school," Fred, George, Charlie, and Bill's pointed at "Lost," and Percy's pointed to "at work." Molly watched in morbid fascination as her hand moved from "home" to "in danger."

Molly made a mad dash to the front door of the Burrow. It was about that time that the door was blasted off its hinges.

* * *

"I think we can say we are lost, brother mine." Fred said to his twin. Bill and Charlie, their older brothers, rolled their eyes.

The four Weasley brothers were in France. Bill and Charlie had brought the Twins with them because they could speak very mangled French. Apparently, Harry knew many languages and knew them well enough to teach them.

"Brother mine, I do believe one of us should ask for directions, what do you think?" George leaned towards Fred as he spoke.

"We don't need directions! I know where I'm going! That spell lead us here, so obviously that Manor is here somewhere!" Bill told his younger brothers in an annoyed tone.

Charlie sighed, as he looked around. The city ended a good mile behind them and there was nothing around in the immediate vicinity.

"Hey, maybe that's what the spell tracked." Fred and George spoke as one, which was unnerving to Charlie as they pointed to something a good three hundred yards away. It looked like…

A wall?

* * *

Severus Snape was in a bad mood. One of his contacts told him the Dark Lord had ordered a raid. He had to find Albus, but the eccentric old man wasn't in his office, which meant he was either in the Great Hall or the Infirmary.

He threw the doors to the Infirmary open. Albus was there, along with some members of the Order. 'Good' he thought 'we'll need them.'

"Albus, a raid has been ordered." Albus gave him a grave look.

What's the target?"

"The Burrow."

* * *

Remus, Mad-eye, Arthur, Albus, and Severus had left to defend the Burrow. Lucius stayed to watch over Tonks, and McGonagall was woken up to watch Umbridge. Sirius stayed to watch the teenagers.

Ginny and Luna had fallen asleep wrapped around each other; Sirius thought they made a cute couple. Ron and Hermione had likewise fallen asleep, Hermione's head pillowed on Ron's chest. The only teen that wasn't asleep was his godson, Harry.

Harry sat very still next to Sirius; the two had moved to chairs. Sirius wanted to talk, but he couldn't find the words. He had a lot of questions for the boy, but he had no idea how to ask them.

"Siri'?" Maybe he might be saved from finding the words.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"You know I was once pregnant don't you?" Harry looked straight ahead, no doubt looking into his own past. Sirius was aware that Lucius and McGonagall tuned into the conversation.

"Yeah, and I'm really sorry about that Harry. I can't imagine what it would be like to be impregnated like that… I'm so sorry, Harry." Harry blinked, before a shocked expression came over his face as he looked at his godfather.

"Oh, Siri', no. No, no, no. Oh, geez, is that what you have been thinking? What all of you have been thinking?" Okay, now Sirius didn't know what to think. What was Harry going on about? His Uncle raped him and he got pregnant: that's horrible. And if Harry was going to say it wasn't, fuck the Order, Sirius was going to torture and kill that fat piece of shit.

"Vernon wasn't the one who impregnated me." Sirius grabbed Harry is a massive hug.

"Oh thank God. Praise Merlin. Circe, I'm so happy to know that!" Sirius whispered into Harry's hair.

"But, then, who did impregnate you?" McGonagall asked this question quietly. Harry pursed his lips, contemplating whether or not he wanted to tell.

"Oliver Wood. It was an accident, he never even knew. Please don't get him in trouble for this…" Harry looked at McGonagall as several emotions flickered across her face: shock, realization, sadness, righteous anger, and a bit of pity.

"Harry, him sleeping with you counts as statutory rape-" Harry cut McGonagall off with a cold voice.

"I know what rape is, Professor. Oliver didn't rape me. He didn't even really want to have sex with me. I was too young, he said… didn't stop him from caving when I practically crawled into his lap, but still. Our first time, he asked me if I wanted to stop at least seventeen times and was very gentle. It was nice. I remember thinking that it would have been so nice if I had lost my virginity to him. But I didn't. I had it taken from me on my seventh birthday, because my Uncle was a sick fuck. Don't say that Oliver raped me, because I could have said no way before we got to his bed."

"You don't expect me to believe that a thirteen-year old seduced a seventeen-year old." McGonagall just wouldn't leave this alone. Harry sighed in an annoyed fashion. 'Don't be crude in the presence of a lady…'

"Seduced? Hardly, more like crawled into his lap. I didn't much let him say no. Come to think of it, I was rather demanding." He remembered that perfectly actually…

"_Harry, don't. I'm, like, five years older then you!" Oliver's voice protested as Harry straddled the older boy. _

"_I don't care about that, Oliver." Oliver's hands firmly clamped onto Harry's hips, to prevent him from getting closer. _

"_You're a minor. You shouldn't even want to seriously have sex with anyone, much less an older guy!" Harry arched an eyebrow at him, then rolled his eyes and leaned forward to kiss him. He needed this, if he didn't have sex with something, he was going to jump Draco. That would NOT be very good. And damn his morality code, but he couldn't just fuck some girl or let some guy fuck him. Noooo, he has to be fond of them. _

**Scene cut due to issues with sexual conetent.**

He remembered that the only reason he even slept with Oliver was because he figured the older boy would be able to fuck all thought out of his brain for awhile. If he hadn't slept with the older boy… well, he doubted Draco would be a virgin right now.

"Why?" Harry was brought out of his musing by McGonagall's voice. He looked at her.

"Why what?"

"Why did you sleep with him? You would think that someone with your sexual background would not even want to have sex." Harry gave her his chilling, haunting smile. For lots of people, this smile was the last thing they ever saw. 'Screw not being crude; it may be the only way to drop this.'

"I wanted to forget some things, and Oliver seemed like he's be strong enough to fuck every thought out of my brain." McGonagall turned red and took fifty points off for his language. Lucius looked floored, as did Sirius. But if you squinted, it almost looked like Sirius was proud of Harry, in a fatherly way.

* * *

A/N: If you want to read that sex scene, it is on my Livejournal, which is also my Homepage on my Profile.


	10. Chapter 10

"Blah." Talking

"_Blah_" Parseltongue

'Blah' Thinking

_Blah _Memories/Flashbacks/Dreams

**Blah** Anything, and Everything else

A/N: I warn you now. I went **crazy** with the line breakers in this chapter. You think I was abusing it before? That's nothing in compairison. :)

* * *

Bill was confused.

"What the fuck is a WALL doing out here!?" And apparently so was Charlie. The twins just moved around the wall, taking in every detail. Bill and Charlie wondered if maybe Dumbledore's lead was just wishful thinking.

"Hey… this is the Malfoy crest." Bill wandered over to where they were pointing. Sure enough, carved into the stone was the Malfoy crest: A lily behind two crossed swords with the phrase '_Je te protéger.'_ Always a family to surprise everyone, the Malfoys; one would think they'd have something gothic and sinister, not a lily.

"This must be the old manor; an earthquake destroyed it, right?" Charlie turned to Bill for conformation. Bill nodded; he head heard that after the earthquake only Abraxas Malfoy was left. At age fifteen, he inherited the whole Malfoy fortune and promptly relocated to Britain. There was, at the time, gossip that Abraxas had summoned the earthquake to kill off his family.

"Bill, is this what we're looking for?" One of the twins asked, jarring Bill out of his thoughts. He refocused his attention on the twins. They were pointing at something, which led his eyes back to the wall. He blinked in bewilderment.

'Well, I'll be damned.'

"Yes, I'm guessing that is what we're looking for." A small portion of the wall looked somewhat distorted, like warped wood. To the average muggle, that meant the wall was simply old, but to a wizard that meant one thing: a very powerful ward, or several, was covering something up. Bill sighed.

"We're going to be here for awhile."

* * *

Arthur and Remus were back to back, firing off curses. A little ways away Albus and Mad-eye were doing the same. Molly and Severus were inside the house, alternately gathering important things and fighting off the few Death Eaters.

A stray flash caught Arthur's attention and as he looked at it, he realized what the stray flash was. It was a body consumed in flames freefalling out of Arthur and Molly's bedroom window on the fourth floor. He hoped his wife was alright.

* * *

Dolores Umbridge woke with a head ache, which only became worse once she remembered the events that led to her unconsciousness. She hoped the Minister got the book he requested; if not, she didn't know what she was going to do. It had taken a long time to track down Chang, who was related to Dolores through some distant relative.

The book containing Merlin's Ancient Secrets, a last accounting written by the god himself, could only be found by someone related to Dolores, as in _distantly_ related. It was some old trick, an old curse, placed upon her family line by Merlin. That was the theory anyway. Every time she looked upon its pages she saw nothing. _Nothing._ Knowing it was there was useless without being able to read it! So, she had climbed the Ministry ladder, looking into everyone's heritage, trying to find someone, _anyone_, that was related to her distantly. It took years, but she finally found Chang.

Over the years it took to locate Chang, she had fallen in love with power, money, and Cornelius Fudge. Sure, the man was married, but that didn't stop him from pounding her into a desk every now and then. Her body grew hot at the very thought.

She opened her eyes and was greeted with Minerva McGonagall's stern face. In an instant, she knew: Her pet Auror had failed: Chang did not give the book to Fudge. She was doomed.

* * *

Minister Fudge was conflicted. He looked at the bound woman across from him, contemplating his possible decisions.

'This is the only way, the only way.'

This thought rang in his head as he released the woman in front of him from her bindings.

* * *

Harry smelt death.

_I don't want to die._

The scent burned his nose, inflamed his thoughts.

_I'm scared._

The watery abyss of sleep was not where he was supposed to be.

_I'm scared._

He tried to claw his way to the surface, force himself awake; he had to wake up. **Now**.

_I don't want to die!_

* * *

Sirius was just starting to nod off when Harry's previously asleep eyes snapped open. His godson stood up and faced the doors to the Infirmary, staring ahead with such intensity that a chill went up Sirius' spine. He saw Lucius and McGonagall turn towards Harry in confusion.

The doors opened with a bang and Sirius was up in a flash, wand drawn.

'Nobody who means well opens doors like that.'

In seconds, the Infirmary became a battle ground. Curses flew, shouting drowned out thoughts, Lucius dove to the right as a sickly green light smothered Tonks, and Harry was gone. Sirius was frantic, he could not see his godson, but he could not move from where he was. If he did, the kids might get hit by something fatal.

'Strange that they have not woken up… oh, that's right Poppy drugged them.'

"_Lumos!" _A short spurt of bright light flashed and it was over. Harry had two wands grasped in his right hand, his left wound in the hair of a struggling female student. When McGonagall moved forward to address the situation, she drew back in horror when she saw who the female student was.

"Brown." Sirius wasn't sure if she sounded more confused or horrified.

* * *

Harry was having a hard time breathing and seeing. Lavender was encased in darkness and he smelt rotting flesh. Her figure was so covered, he literally could not see her, thus the need for the lumos spell. Of course, the fact that the girl reacted so badly was also food for thought.

He felt sadness creep up his spine; felt sorrow attempt to choke him. He clenched his jaw as he made a spur of the moment decision.

'I will free her; I will give her back to Thantos.'

Fire spread from his hand to her hair, red-orange ate black. He heard shouting, but it was so distant, and then… silence.

**He opened his eyes to his field of flowers. He felt the long dress of night clinging to his body as he looked to his companion. He could see her now, a lot clearer then he had in a while. Her face was cut up, her nightgown torn, there was blood everywhere it seemed. She turned wide, frightened eyes on him.**

"**Harry, I'm scared. I've never really liked you, but I'm scared… help me. I don't want to die." Lavender's fingers were twisted and broken, her nails missing on some. **

"**I can't help you Lavender, you're already dead. But it's okay, you won't be in pain for much longer. You won't be afraid." His flowers were wilting, the sky was crying, and he realized Lavender was crying, too. **

"**Mama, Mama, Mama. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I love you, Mama, Mama." Thantos glided over to them, silent and compassionate, warm and understanding, cold and cruel. **

"**My child, my precious child." Thantos spoke as a mother would, gently gathering Lavender into stone cold arms. Lavender sobbed, broken and dead, against the demi-god. Thantos swayed, softly singing to the girl.**

**A different singer's voice was starting to become more pronounced and Harry narrowed his eyes. A necromancer was trying to find Lavender. Necromancers were children of Thantos and Hades, born of their union. It was why they were so rare, because Hades and Thantos were only ever allowed to make love once every decade. They could not indulge themselves anymore then that.**

**Necromancers, for all their human qualities, were not human. A human could give themselves to someone or something. A necromancer could not – they belong to no one, but Thantos and Hades. They could not love, could not hate, and could not be loyal. For a necromancer to try was not only pointless, but it was fatal. It was grounds for extermination – for while Hades was possessive, Thantos was selfish.**

"**Thantos, one of your children seeks that one. What would you have me do?" Harry spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the two. The singing of the necromancer was turning into a low whine, a pathetic grovel. Harry sneered. 'What manner of necromancer cannot sing properly?' **

"**That child has let herself be owned by another." Thantos' statement was met with Harry's eyes widening, his mouth coming up into a cruel and cold smirk. **

"**Well then, I suppose that means I get a new play toy." **

"**Wait. That child is going towards your body. It should be easy to return to it and get rid of my wayward child." The wind beheaded the flowers and the sky fell into darkness. **

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes he was laying against Sirius' chest.

"Hey, kiddo. You okay?" Harry blinked sleepily as he stared up at his godfather's face. The older man looked tired.

"Potter. You killed her." Professor McGonagall sounded cold. Harry sat up, looking at the charred remains of flesh and bones near the entrance.

"You cannot kill something that was already dead."

Lucius was looking at Harry oddly, caught between awe and terror. McGonagall looked closely at Lavender's remains, casting a few spells over them.

"What makes you think she was dead, kiddo?" Sirius played with Harry's hair.

"I've known since term started. It seemed pretty obvious to me." 'Now, how am I going to explain this without saying too much? I wonder… yes, we suppose I can say that.'

"She always smelt like rotting flesh." McGonagall looked at Harry critically for a moment and was about to question him further, when Pomfrey's soft voice was heard from nearby.

"Nymphadora… she's dead." Harry looked over in mild shock.

'Well, I'll be damned. Lavender was good for something.'

* * *

Dolores looked at the scene around her in a mixture of panic, fear, and denial.

'You are the Minister's most trusted; these people are in your, and his, way! Do something about it! Your pet is dead, Chang has obviously been found out, and a student is also dead.'

She stood up shaking, bracing herself for the actions she was about to commence in.

"That child is a murderer! Potter has just murdered a student and an Auror in cold blood! And that man is Sirius Black! An AZKABAN escapee! When the Minister finds out that Hogwarts has been hosting him, I will maker sure, personally, that you are ALL locked away! I demand that you release me so I may, as my civil duty commands, inform the Minister right away!"

'Breathe, Dolores, breathe. You are more powerful then anyone in this room; you have more power. Cornelius will notice if you suddenly stop communicating with him, therefore, they **cannot** kill you. Breathe, just breathe.'

Silence still prevailed and Dolores marched forward to grab the Potter child by his upper arm. He stiffened almost immediately in fear of her. The brat was skinny, and his pretty looks reminded her of the red-light district whores. As she moved towards the still open doors, someone else came through them.

* * *

Harry stiffened when Umbridge grabbed his arm, but not out of fear of her, as the woman assumed. No, he stiffened because he saw one of Thantos' children. Necromancers, to Harry, looked warped, distorted. And they constantly changed. One minute they were the pitch black of a bottomless abyss, the next, the white madness of an asylum. Their magic clashed with their bodies and thus Harry could see both aspects.

Typically, muggles were white; they looked white to Harry. Sure, he could see their skin color or the colors they are wearing, but they had a white glow to them. The darker the color, the farther away the person was from a muggle. But no one could be black, barring a necromancer. To be black meant you were dead, and in many ways a Necromancer was dead. They were mortal, but were children of Thantos and Hades. Their magic came from the grave, but it was caught in a previously non-magical mortal body; thus, the clash of white and black seen on a necromancer.

This necromancer was a female with short, red hair. Her skin was tanned from exposure to the sun, her eyes were brown, and she was rather short and wore raggedy clothes. Harry sneered, this was not something he could tolerate. A child of Hades should have been cold and pale, and a child of Thantos should be beautiful, not average. Necromancers were born with these traits, but when their looks descended, it meant that they had given themselves to someone or something. If Harry had any doubts about whether or not Thantos was telling the truth, they were banished from his mind. A decrease in singing quality and appearance meant one thing: She had to be killed; she had given herself to someone.

Lucky for Harry, a necromancer who breaks taboo also had massive decrease in power. With the break, their power starts to return to the Grave and if not hunted, they age rapidly over the course of a few years and die.

"Who are you?" Lucius Malfoy's voice was wary and firm. McGonagall and Sirius had moved to bring Madam Pomfrey to the children, so she could wake them from their drug induced sleep. At least awake, they weren't sitting ducks.

"I am the Ministry's necromancer. My name is Nora and-" Harry didn't let her get any farther.

"You don't deserve a name. You've given yourself up to someone else. How **dare** you come in here and pronounce that you belong to the Ministry?" Harry spat out the accusation, with every word screaming offense. It bothered him, how offended this woman was making him. Perhaps it was because of his unnatural connection to Thantos?

She looked at him, really looked, and he knew she knew what he had been assigned to do. Her eyes widened in horror and a choked sound came out of her throat. Golden nets closed in around her and squeezed. It was like a balloon: she inflated until her body could not take the strain and then exploded into tiny little pieces.

Harry blinked, for he hadn't done anything. Looking at his friends cleared up his confusion. Apparently, Ron had deemed it necessary to kill the woman himself. To say the other adults in the room were shocked would be an understatement.

* * *

"Alright, Alright. Settle down. Obviously, we all need to talk." Albus paused to clean his glasses and gather his thoughts.

"Harry Potter has killed a student that had been dead since the beginning of term, and Ronald Weasley has killed a necromancer, something no one in this room can claim they have done. When questioned, Harry admitted to teaching Ron how to create and execute the spell used to kill said necromancer. This brings to light new questions: how and why would someone as young as Mr. Weasley be able to create and use such a spell? Harry claimed to know Miss Brown was dead: how did he know this? What are we going to do about Dolores Umbridge? How are we going to tell Nymphadora's parents that their daughter died essentially a traitor? Are we going to allow or even think about young misters Potter and Weasley joining the Order?" Albus looked around the meeting table. Most were still in shock over hearing the events that occurred in the Infirmary only an hour ago.

"Um, Albus, I feel I must have this noted." Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat. "Mister Potter seemed most… offended by this necromancer."

"I also got word from Bill and Charlie: they said 'they found it.' What were they looking for, Albus?" Arthur posed this question, concerned that his sons were away doing something he had no knowledge about.

Albus heaved a sigh.

'I'm getting too old for this.'

* * *

Up in Gryffindor Tower, Ginny and Luna were curled together asleep in Ginny's bed. In the boy's dorm, Hermione and Ron were up, curtains drawn around Ron's bed. They were finishing the last of their homework that they had ditched when Ron suddenly felt that his sister was in danger. It was taking a while because the two kept getting distracted by the other. Harry wasn't in his bed to keep them focused.

Harry was sitting calmly at the foot of Draco's bed, down in the dungeons. He was trying to decide whether he wanted to wake Draco up or not, when the other boy chose for him.

"'Arry?" Harry bit his lip; Draco was so cute when he slurred his words.

"Yeah. I'm sorry for more or less going stalker on you, but I wanted to see you."

Draco yawned before opening his arms to Harry, obviously intending to go back to sleep.

When Harry was curled around Draco, their legs intertwined and Harry's head tucked under Draco's chin, they drifted off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

Author's Note: Sorry this took me so long, it just wasn't working with me! And then it was summer and I didn't want to do anything. And I also want to note that this and the beginning of chapter twelve were supposed to be one chapter, but I figuredyou guys had waited long enough for an update.

* * *

Wormtail was in fear of his life. And for good reason: his Lord was mad… in more ways than one.

"WHAT DID IT SAY?! SAY WHAT IT SAID AGAIN!" Wormtail trembled under his Lord's rage. Since his resurrection, his Lord had been obsessed with the prophecy concerning himself and James' son.

'Do I even have the right to call him James anymore?'

Abruptly, he was thrown into a wall, his Lord's skeletal fingers grasping at his neck, lifting the smaller man off the ground.

"What. Did. It. Say." The words were spat out, and Wormtail could feel his Lord's magic running wild across his skin. He was starting to feel dizzy from lack of oxygen, and he could feel asphyxia creeping up on him.

Suddenly, Wormtail was thrown from his Lord and he hit the ground with a painful thump.

"No... it won't matter, because I have _you_ … I'll get what you need… I'll get what you need… But what if it's right? 'Power to vanquish' can mean many things… yes… but _you_ told me to wait… you told me to wait…"

Wormtail shook as he crawled closer to the door, trying desperately not to sob. His Lord had been doing this recently, talking to himself out loud. It made the rat-like man wonder if his Lord was possessed or simply mad. He wasn't sure which one he would prefer.

He was in front of the door when his Lord started to laugh, great gasping laughter that shook the foundation of Wormtail's soul with fear. His Lord's magic went wild and became an almost tangible force, crushing Wormtail to the ground.

And then it was over. And Wormtail lay gasping for breath on the ground, curling up around himself as the magic sunk into his skin. His fake, silver hand seemed to hum as it melted, ripping some muscles out of place. His Lord laughed as he screamed in pain.

"I find myself lacking some of _it_." Wormtail gasped and screamed in pain as a spell ripped open his stomach, his intestines spiraling out of his body like vines.

_It was the very first day of school and Peter sat all alone in a compartment on the train. He bit his lip as the scenery changed outside the window. What if he never found any friends? At that moment the door slid open and two other boys came into the small compartment. Both were taller then he was and had black hair. One had slightly longer hair than the other, and the other's stuck up at impossible angles. This boy had glasses and a kind look in his eyes, his mouth upturned into a mischievous grin. The other, long haired boy's eyes were stormy, clouded with annoyance, but his mouth was set in a firm smile. As if the smile would make him feel better. _

"_Hey, I'm James Potter, and this is…" _

His Lord laughed, high pitched and wild, as every bone in both arms shattered. Tears stung his eyes as they fell freely, and his throat burned from the never-ending screaming.

_Peter stuck close to James throughout the rest of the day, and when the other boy was sorted into Gryffindor, Peter was determined to be sorted into that house as well. The other boy – Sirius Black– had also been sorted there, but that didn't really matter to Peter as much. _

The feeling of being forcibly entered brought Wormtail out of the fog of near unconsciousness with a vengeance. His vocal cords had been healed, and as his screaming began anew, the Dark Lord moaned in pleasure.

_Sirius brightened considerably when Remus Lupin came down to breakfast; it never failed, even two weeks into school. James always sighed and gave a small laugh as Sirius would immediately get up, grab the small boy, and force him into sitting so close Sirius was practically eating around him. _

_Eventually, Remus stopped needing to be dragged over, but he did choose to sit a tad bit further away from Sirius._

He screamed and gasped for air as his eyes were ripped out of his sockets. He pleaded and begged for death, not caring that the Dark Lord was laughing that horrible, sobbing, gasping, high-pitched, wild laughter.

_It was their last year at Hogwarts, and as Sirius danced with Remus under the Sunlight by the lake, James and Lily talked quietly under a tree, and Peter found that he hated Lily for stealing his James from him. It wasn't like he was in love with James, but damnit, he'd been here first! _

"_Hey, Lovebirds! We're going to take a picture, come on!" Lily's voice rang out, getting Sirius and Remus' attention. They ran over, Sirius plowing into James with that barking laughter, and Remus chuckling. _

_James and Sirius had their arms thrown around each others shoulders, Sirius' other arm was around Remus' waist. Peter was in front, James and Remus' hand on his shoulders as Lily took the picture. _

He wondered where that picture was and if James would ever forgive him.

_The four of them, laughing so hard they were almost crying. _

* * *

Everything was going down the drain. Dumbledore had sent letters to the members of the Wizengamot, calling for a vote of incompetence against Fudge. The Ministry's necromancer had been killed, as proven by the crumbling rock in Fudge's hand.

The rock had been found in the vaults of the Ministry, tucked away to never be seen. In fairy tales, it was said to resurrect human souls, but in reality it granted a wish from Death. If you wished for someone to return, return they would... just not the way the wisher had wanted. It was much like the Monkey's Paw in that aspect; it granted a wish, but sometimes the results were not expected or liked.

On top of that, his secretary, Dolores, was found dead outside of Hogsmeade, and there was no one he could blame without it blowing up in his face. An owl flew into his office, bearing the crest of the Wizengamot. The envelope was green and functioned somewhat like a Howler, only instead of screaming at you, it enabled the whole Ministry and all of Diagon Alley to hear anything written within it.

He whimpered when it opened.

"We of the Wizengamot have reached a decision concerning the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Based upon evidence submitted by various persons and affiliations, we find Cornelius Fudge unfit to be Minister of Magic. As such, he will be stripped of his position immediately and forbidden from any job concerning political factions. We of the Wizengamot have also decided that any person or persons placed in Azkaban under the former Minister of Magic will be released and or cleared of all charges. That is all."

* * *

Out of the many prisoners in Azkaban, only three were supposed to be let out and cleared, by order of the Wizengamot. However, when a young Auror went to release the three, the Dementors decided to "play a game." This game was called, at least by those who knew it was a game, "What, If Any, Side Should We Participate, In The Event Of Civil War." The opening to this game?

Thirteen escaped prisoners as opposed to three.

HPDM HPDM HPDM HPDM HPDM HPDM

The headlines that morning were insane, hysteria was widespread.

"Mass Break-out From Azkaban; Ten High Security Prisoners Missing!"

"Former Minister's Revenge?"

"Dolores Umbridge Found Dead In Hogsmeade! Harry Potter's Doing?"

"Harry Potter Cripples The Ministry Of Magic!"

"Dementors Missing From Azkaban! Spotted Near Hogwarts; Harry Potter Calling His Army?"

And on and on, the headlines speculated one thing or another. But they all came back to the same conclusion: Harry Potter was to blame for everything. Seamus found himself absolutely disgusted by a large population of Hogwarts. Everyone seemed to be eating this up; no one cared that their gossip had made Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Great Hall; no one cared that several of their classmates, including Neville, looked absolutely devastated by the news of the Azkaban break-out; no one even cared that not two minutes before the post came in the Headmaster had told everyone that Lavender Brown was dead. No one cared about much of anything, and it absolutely disgusted Seamus, because he had been just like them yesterday, before this nonsense. No one cared that these events proved Harry right: the Dark Lord was back. And no one cared.

Seamus didn't know what to do. His mother had told him to stay away from Harry, based on the Daily Prophet, but this… this was getting ridiculous. And not just a harmless kind of ridiculous, but a more dangerous kind.

'Harry isn't the type to hold immature grudges. I'll apologize for being an ass, and we'll go from there… now where to find him? Should I just go down to class and hope to see him there? I suppose that's my only hope; thank Merlin we have History of Magic.'

Mondays were usually hell, simply because fifth-year Gryffindors had History of Magic with forth-year Ravenclaws. At the same time, forth-year Gryffindors, and Hermione, had Ancient Ruins with the fifth year Slytherins. Mondays schedules had all sorts of years being shoved together into classes because of the sheer amount of students either behind or ahead due to the Triwizard Tournament.

Thus the reason his seat was next to Looney Lovegood and behind Harry's. Lovegood was reading The Quibbler sideways and writing something absentmindedly on a piece of parchment. Harry looked like he was already taking notes, which was, of course, ridiculous, as he normally slept during this class.

"Oi, Harry." As expected, Harry did not look back, Ron did. Seamus was very used to Ron's overprotective nature towards both Ginny and Harry, so the glare that was given only stung slightly.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize. To Harry." That got Harry's attention. The smaller boy turned around and the look on his face made a chill go up Seamus' spine. When he was younger he thought the chill was from awe – after all, what eleven year-old can look at someone with that amount of patience? – but now that he was older, he recognized the chill for what it really was: fear. His instincts were telling him to run for the hills, but everything else was saying it was fine; that it's just Harry.

"Well?" The annoyance in Ron's voice jolted him out of his revere. Harry placed a calming hand on Ron's arm and smiled at him. Ron turned around, grumbling.

'What the Hell was that?'

"Well, reading the newspapers this morning… everyone is so blind. I'm not stupid, I know how to read signs… Well, I guess…" Here it was, no turning back. Seamus took a deep breath and looked Harry right in the eye. "I'm sorry, Harry, for the way I've been treating you this year. You were obviously right."

Harry looked at the other boy for a long moment, causing Seamus to squirm, before a smile finally overtook his face.

"Apology accepted. Give me your parchment real quick." Seamus blinked. 'That's... an odd request.' But he handed the parchment over.

Harry drew what looked like a star with his wand over the center of it, whispering "altus" when the star was complete. The parchment glowed briefly and then returned to normal.

"This is a spell I designed," Ron whispered as class started. "It allows two or more people to talk to each other secretly. To an outsider it will look like you're just writing notes about the lesson, no revealing spell works on it, and you'll never need another piece of parchment to finish a conversation. It deletes prior conversations completely, as well. It was a bitch to make." Ron made a disgusted face then, as if he couldn't believe he spent so much time on something like this.

Then it sunk in.

"_You_ designed this? Ron, _no one_ has been able to make something like this, the spell work alone is NEWT level! Spell Masters, for years, have been trying to make something like this, and to think they were outdone by a fifteen year old. Ron, if you got this spell published, your family would still be rich when you're nothing more then a memory!" Seamus whispered frantically. Ron looked decidedly embarrassed, as he turned around to feign paying attention.

The parchment warmed a little under his fingers and when he looked down orange handwriting was appearing. It started from the top right and cascaded down to the left bottom corner.

"_Don't embarrass Ronald so much; it isn't good for his health. The Slag-Tarenents might decide he tastes good. – L.L."_

Seamus blinked and then realized that "L.L." stood for Luna Lovegood. He slid his eyes to her profile; she was looking forward, staring at a spot in the corner with a dreamy look. He picked up his quill and started to write.

"_What are Slag-Tarenents?- S.F."_ His words were aqua, reminding Seamus of the lake outside Hogwarts. His words, unlike Luna's, were in a semi-straight horizontal line. And even though he hadn't written his initials down, they appeared anyway.

"_Slag-Tarenents are half-bird half-rat creatures that feast upon the flesh of embarrassed teenagers. My dad told me about them."_Apparently, the spell didn't feel the need to place Luna's initials after her message, which just impressed Seamus more.

'Ron's spell work for this is phenomenal. Flitwick would probably make it his life's mission to ensure Ron became the best master's apprentice, if he knew about this spell!'

"_Not to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but I'm calling a short meeting. Seamus and Luna: You are about to be joined by myself, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Draco Malfoy. Seamus: Don't argue with Draco. Draco: Same. –H.G."_

Grey words with shadows underneath them appeared slowly and, like Seamus', they looked conventional. This was obviously from Hermione; Seamus could tell because he knew what her handwriting looked like.

"_I'm not going to argue with Finnigan, Hermione. I'm not a child. –D.M__."_ Purple words fell from the top right to the bottom left in a lazy procession, stretching as if they could jump right off the page.

"_Oh, I could so argue that…–G.W.__"_ Black ink flowed from nowhere to form a perfectly centered phrase. After several seconds, Seamus realized that this must be Ginny's message.

"_But you're not going to. –H.P.__"_ Green text, precise and centered, quickly showed itself on the page, two words per line with the last word centered. Obviously Harry.

"_So, what are we talking about, Hermione?"_ Seamus was curious, and a little wary of discussing anything while Draco Malfoy was listening – well, reading – in.

"_I wanted to ask everyone if they are interested in learning a little self-defense from Harry in their free time." _Something about the proposal seemed a little odd, and the words seemed skittish, almost like they wanted to be erased for suggesting such a thing.

The responses seemed to come in rapid fire, some appearing at the same time, crisscrossing over each other until it all made sense.

"_That seems like a good idea, count me in. Maybe we should involve more people than just us?"_ Ginny's words were perfectly neat, but something about them seemed…ponderous. Almost as if she was right here in front of him and he could see her tilt her head in thought.

"_We're uneven, we should include a Hufflepuff."_ Luna's orange words looked so much brighter, coming after dark colors. Her phrase touched Malfoy's purple one.

"_If we all gang up on Harry, he won't be able to say no. Yes, I realize that you are reading this, Harry, and no, I don't care." _

"_Great idea, 'Mione! That way we won't be sitting ducks in the face of the War."_ Ron's statement sent a chill down Seamus' spine. It didn't really seem to hit him until now, that the War was really coming. And Ron was right, the way most of the students at Hogwarts were, everyone was a sitting duck.

"_Merlin… I just realized. This school is going to be massacred if You-Know-Who comes; our Defense classes are pathetic! Death Eaters aren't going to stick to the legal spells that we know how to defend against!"_ Seamus' untidy scrawl seemed just as alarmed as he was.

"_I hate you all. But Seamus' example is the one to convince me: This school would be a sitting duck and the perfect target. Fine. I'll "give you extra lessons," but how do you want to do this? Teach you everything you should know up to Seventh Year? Go beyond that? Tell me what to do, oh great planner that is my lovable sister!" _It was the most Seamus had seen Harry write, and it looked eloquent and perfect. A bit long, since every two words demanded a new line, but very neat; though the last sentence was a joke Seamus could have done without.

"_Harry, you frighten me. Seriously, you go from gloom and doom to professional interest, and then to joking in the span of a few minutes."_ Ginny's writing seemed just as eloquent, only not quite as amused.

"_You almost made Hermione burst out laughing. Have you any idea how mad she would have looked? We're doing one of the semi-difficult equations today, and to have our resident bookworm burst out in hysterical laughter would __not__ have looked good…"_ Strangely, Malfoy's messages looked messier then Ginny and Harry's.

"Why don't we discuss this at length after classes? That way Fred, George and Neville could be included." Ron's words caused an image of the Weasley Twins levitating everyone upside down to pop up in Seamus' head. He hoped they wouldn't use any of the pranks they'd learned...

* * *

"Don't you even care that she's dead, Harry?" Dean Thomas was caught between horror, incredibility, and indifference. The indifference baffled him, but he chalked it up to the fact that he wasn't very fond of said dead person.

"Not particularly, no. I care more about Lavender Brown then I do Dolores Umbridge. Why does this shock you? I wasn't particularly fond of her, Dean." Harry sounded tired; bored of this discussion.

"That sounds horribly cruel." Dean's voice was so small it was almost a whisper, but it carried across the empty, unused classroom they were all in.

Everyone seemed to be scattered around. Ron and Hermione were standing next to Harry, who was sitting on one of the desks. A few feet away, on another desk, Luna and Ginny were toying with each other's hands, pressed so close to each other it looked indecent. Draco and Neville stood by the window and door respectively, looking inward to give everyone their attention. The Weasley Twins were sitting on the ground in-between Malfoy and Neville. Seamus and Dean were across from Ron, Harry, and Hermione; a little Hufflepuff girl named Eleanor was fidgeting in her seat beside Seamus and Dean, almost mirroring them.

"I'm a horribly cruel person." Harry responded in a sharp, quiet voice. A few people snorted. Dean couldn't tell who. Harry smiled his creepy smile, or his scare-the-crap-out-of-anyone smile, as Dean secretly referred to it, before talking again.

"I realize that to some of you, I don't seem like a cruel person at all. And in a sense, those of you that think that are wrong. I can be incredibly cruel if I want to be. I can be a little vindictive bitch, for lack of better term. And, if we go with what Hermione is suggesting, you will all have to realize this fact." Harry's voice always managed to awe Dean; it always sounded so musical, even if he was threatening someone. Over the past five years, Dean had fallen asleep to Ron, Harry, and Hermione's hushed conversations and Harry's voice had never failed to inspire a truly abstract dream that Dean later tried to preserve through art. It was musical.

"And what –"

"Would that –"

"Idea be –"

"Harry dear?"

The twins spoke their perfectly choreographed broken speech, which all blended together into one voice to Dean.

Hermione cleared her voice to get everyone's attention.

"We all know that Harry is… strong. We all know that at the end of the Third Task he faced…"She took a deep breath here, as much for her sake as everyone else's. "Lord Voldemort alone, and yet here he is. Everyone in this room has seen what Harry is like when he is angry; we all know that he could easily best the current Seventh Years and is very good at defending himself. We've all heard the rumors that he was dueling with the Durmstrang students last year and we've all had him help us with our homework at least once." She paused again and looked at Ron who took over the speech.

"Hermione, Harry, and I have been through a hell of a lot of shit these past years, as you all know. However, what none of you know is that Hermione and I would be dead, many times over, if not for Harry's knowledge of magic and defense in general. Hermione's idea is that we all… train… under Harry, learning the different things he can teach us. I can already see the question forming behind everyone's eyes 'What can he teach us that we can't learn ourselves from our books or the older years?' My answer to that: A hell of a lot more. Harry grew up learning advance magic, learning magic that is forgotten now, lost to time and age. He knows so much more then our books and can teach so much better than our books can." He stopped here, swallowing a few times, readying himself for the next part.

"Some of the things we will learn… are considered illegal by our Ministry, but we're heading into a War where our enemy has sunk into our Ministry so far that it no longer cares for its people. Hermione and I are not stupid, and neither are any of you: we all know that if Lord… V-V-Voldemort came here, this school would be screwed. The least we could do is try our best to ensure that not all of us will be running like chickens with our heads cut off when it happens." Ron trailed off, looking at everyone's reactions to his words. Dean could guess what he saw: a strange mix between utter terror and determination.

Harry stood up, using Ron and Hermione to help himself to his feet. He looked… fragile. Skinnier than the two flanking him, and smaller… more fragile; but that image fell away when he spoke.

"Ron and Hermione are making this sound so good, but I do have something to add. I was trained by Vampires, Immortals, experience, and memories. And as such, this isn't going to be easy for you; there will be sessions that you will wish you were dead, or that I was. You will know pain and exhaustion. There will be days -weeks- that you will hate my guts. You will feel useless and frustrated with yourself. You will feel confused and you will learn more then you have in your life. I will not let any of you slack off from your schoolwork; in fact, I will expect it to be near perfect quality. House rivalries will be suspended, and you will get along with each other. I will teach you more then just magic and defense, whether you like it or not. Does everyone understand?"

"That sounds thrilling." Luna's voice carried as she trailed her hand down one of Ginny's arms.

Harry smiled, looking excited for the first time in months.

"We need a name."

* * *

Between Quidditch practice, classes and curfew, it was hard to schedule training sessions, as Harry called them. Everyone's schedule was chaotic and subject to change, so Hermione decided to always meet on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. If a session needed to change for any reason, the new date would show up on everyone's charmed parchment.

And thus, their first "session" came up. And with it came rain.

"Well, first off, I want to… get a feel of what your magic is like. So, to do that, I want each of you to hold this ball in your hands and answer my questions as honestly as you can." Harry held up a ball the size of the standard snitch. It was completely made of crystal.

"As I only have one, you will all do this in turns, and while I'm getting a feel for your individual magic, you can all practice the standard disarming spell '_Expelliarmus.'_ Yes, I realize the majority of you know that and yes I realize it is something taught to first years, but you'll all do it anyway. That way, I don't have to monitor what you're all doing as much. Fred, you're first."

From where everyone was sitting on the dusty ground, George got up and made his way over to Harry, who was sitting in a darker corner. The room they had chosen was deep in the dungeons, beneath the lake and very cool. Shadows danced wherever they pleased, spiraling closer to the light from the chandeliers, before twirling away.

"I said Fred, not you, George." Harry smiled at the red-headed twin, who grinned at him sheepishly. Fred quickly made his way over.

"Perhaps we could do this together?" Fred asked, grabbing his brother's hand. Harry looked between them, considering the option, before he frowned and shook his head.

"No, Fred first. George, go practice the disarming spell, and yes, I will kick you if you decide to goof off."

Hence, everyone decided to listen to Harry and practice the disarming spell. Neville and Eleanor had some problems with it; Dean couldn't say the incantation correctly; and Seamus couldn't actually disarm anyone. The others, who could perform the disarming spell flawlessly, helped the others patiently as they could.

Meanwhile, Harry gave the snitch-sized crystal ball to Fred, who took it with a bewildered look. The ball was cold and felt fragile in between Fred's hands.

"Imagine something that makes you happy. Anything." Harry's words were gentle and his gaze briefly turned to Draco before returning to Fred.

The ball glowed lightly, somehow becoming even colder in his hands, as it flashed through a bunch of different colors before settling on a deep red.

"Set that down, will you?" The ball didn't move, just patiently sat there. "It turned red, meaning your magic is better for defense. Was it cold or hot or in-between?" Fred blinked at the odd question.

"Cold."

Harry nodded, writing something down on a piece of parchment.

"What you are holding is a 'magic crystal' or a device that finds and reads your magical core. Each person has a certain type of magic. It is part of what makes us all unique; whether the type of magic makes a personality or a personality makes a type of magic is up for debate, but in the big picture, it's not that important. Your twin is next. Go help Neville for me, will you?"

Three hours later, Eleanor and Neville finally mastered '_Expelliarmus_,' with some help from the twins throwing hexes at them. Harry had everyone categorized by type of magic and what skills could be determined from that reading. He didn't tell anyone what any of their results meant, wanting to wait until their next meeting to explain.

Everyone left feeling exhausted, to the point where they fell asleep before dinner even started.

And being asleep, they were not present when Peter Pettigrew's deformed, bloodless corpse dropped into the Great Hall. They were asleep when the screaming started and they did not hear the Headmaster order everyone to their dorms, and they were not awake when he ordered that no one was to be in the neighboring dorms.


	12. Chapter 12

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

A/N: I'm so sorry that this took SO LONG!! I had major computer issues, and RL sucks. Thanks to all of you that reviewed and are still reading this! Again, I'm SO SORRY that this took so long; the next updates shouldn't be this long.

A/N 2: Torture in this chapter, rather graphic, a heads up has been given and I apologize if you find yourself utterly disgusted.

* * *

"You were _asleep_?" Professor McGonagall's voice was incredulous. Harry tried to hide his yawn, leaning his head sideways onto Draco's shoulder. Harry was bored and Draco was warm.

"Mr. Potter, are you listening to me?!" The Deputy Headmistress' voice was piercing.

'No.'

"I'm sorry. But, I really don't see why we're in trouble. We were asleep when Professor Dumbledore told the school that students were to remain in their dorms." The older woman pursed her lips, looking at the group of teenagers in disproval.

They were all rudely awoken that morning by the irate teacher, who escorted them to the Headmaster's office, not even giving them time to get out of yesterday's clothes.

Fred, George, Eleanor, and Neville were all on the stretched out loveseat against the wall. Neville looked like he'd ate his toad and Eleanor looked like a kicked puppy. The twins, true to their reputation, were looking around with apparent boredom, no doubt having been in this office many times before.

Ginny and Hermione were sitting in two plush chairs, purple and orange respectively, while Luna and Ron were sitting on the arms. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were looking at McGonagall sheepishly while Luna was looking at a shadow above McGonagall's head.

Harry yawned again, turning his head into Draco's neck; he smiled faintly when Draco stiffened briefly before relaxing again.

"Mr. Potter, please stop cuddling with Mr. Malfoy and pay attention!"

'No. Screw you; I'm tired.'

"Professor McGonagall, I'll take it from here." Albus Dumbledore's voice sounded amused, and as Harry peeked out from Draco's neck he saw the old man twinkling in his direction. Vaguely, Harry knew that the older man was caught between happiness and sorrow and as horrible as Harry felt for it, he couldn't bring himself to care as much as his heart was telling him to.

"Mr. Potter, I think you will be pleased to know that Sirius Black is going to be completely pardoned by sunset today, or that's how things are looking so far. Now, onto why you're being punished: I'm not sure if any of you are aware of this, considering that none of you were at dinner, but Peter Pettigrew's body was portkeyed into the Great Hall." Silence. Harry bit down on Draco's neck softly, wanting to laugh madly when the boy shuddered.

"But wouldn't someone need the actual location of the Great Hall to achieve that? After all, a portkey is useless if it isn't told where to bring something." Fred and George's voice blended into one. Unbidden, an image of the Inquisitorial Squad practicing the Imperius curse on Cho Chang came to Harry's mind. He noticed that it was from Draco's point of view, complete with the horror and disbelief he had felt that night.

"The Inquisitorial Squad was practicing an Unforgivable on a student, under orders from Umbridge, who was under orders from Fudge, who was under orders from the Dark Lord. So, essentially, they're Death Eaters in training. Maybe they're the ones who got the logistics?" Draco's voice sounded calm and collected, but Harry could feel the uneasiness radiating from his mind. Harry traced the faint outline of his teeth on Draco's neck with his tongue, barely holding in his laughter when he felt Draco tense and his heart speed up.

"Yes, that is rather what I thought as well. This means, of course, that you are in a rather dangerous position, Mr. Malfoy." Harry could practically feel Draco's eyebrow lift.

"Actually, that means I'm in the same position I've been in all year, and that position will become dangerous if I don't handle it properly. For instance, me being here is putting me in more danger, given what happened last night."

"So is the fact that everyone knows you and I are at least friends." Harry said as he paused in licking Draco's neck.

"Yes, but I can explain that one away. All I have to say is that I'm trying to convert you; it's been working so far." Draco's fingers came up to play with Harry's hair, probably of their own violation, given the rather contemplative look on Draco's face.

Albus sighed, leaning back in his chair. His gaze switched to the Weasley twins.

"Dear boys, do you have any information about the recent errand I sent you and your older brothers on?" The twins blinked, becoming serious all at once. They spared glances at everyone else in the room before turning to Albus.

"Nothing that Bill and Charlie haven't told you: the book appears to be a journal of some sort. It's written in Latin – like that book of Merlin's. French is a little like Latin, as you know, so we were able to make out one word from the first page: General. Well, it could have been "leader," but the idea is the same. Everything else you already know." Fred spoke while George nodded along.

"What are you talking about?" Eleanor's soft voice squeaked out. When the Headmaster turned to look at her, she clamped her hands over her mouth and stared at the old man in terror. Albus gave her a kind smile, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"As you no doubt know, , the Weasley twins here were gone for a few weeks earlier. They got back recently. They, with their older brothers who are out of school, went on an errand for me. Don't worry yourself about it, dear girl."

Harry yawned again, once more burrowing into Draco's neck. Thank god he wasn't playing Quidditch today.

'Wait… the game is today... We need to be seen at breakfast, or bad things will happen.'

"Uh… Headmaster? About not putting Draco in any unnecessary danger… If we don't want him in a bad position, he needs to be seen at breakfast."

* * *

"And Draco Malfoy has caught the Snitch! 150 points to Slytherin, Slytherin wins!" Lee Jordon's voice boomed across the pitch as the student body went wild.

Harry and Hermione screamed while Ron and everyone else in the Gryffindor stands clapped with mixed enthusiasm. Harry was jumping up and down, clapping and spinning in place. Ron saw more then one longing look go to Harry's skirt, no doubt hoping it would flip up and reveal more then it should. He glared at every student that had that longing in their eyes.

As far as Ron was concerned, the only one allowed to look at Harry's skirt in that manner was Draco Malfoy. And, as Harry and Hermione ran ahead to congratulate the Slytherin team, he could see that Draco also shared that sentiment, considering the death glares he gave his team.

"Congrats! Now, we can utterly destroy you guys when it's time for our match!" Harry said laughing.

* * *

Remus had been enjoying a nice cup of tea when Bill Weasley rushed into the kitchen.

"REMUS! Look, LOOK!" Bewildered, Remus took in the young man's appearance: disheveled hair and clothes, a wild look in his eye, a manic smile on his face, and an arm waving what appeared to be a special edition of the Daily Prophet.

'If it's something else about how the world is ending and it's Harry's fault I'm going to kill someone…'

It wasn't. In fact, after reading the headline, Remus could feel his whole body freeze up. Bill whooped and gave him a bear hug that would have crushed his ribs if not for the fact that Remus was a werewolf.

"Anyway, got to get back home… Mum and Fleur might need help getting dinner ready. And Charlie and Dad send their regards. Albus is coming over later to help with the Burrow reconstruction; maybe you two will want to come?" Remus nodded numbly, only half comprehending what was going on around him.

Ten minutes later, Sirius came down.

"Oh, I thought I heard Bill… Moony, you okay?" Remus looked up, a glazed look in his eyes.

"Remus? Hello? There's nothing wrong is there?" Sirius was starting to sound alarmed, so Remus did the only thing he could think of. He threw himself onto the other man, kissing him so passionately that Sirius' hip hit against the kitchen table.

And, as clothes were flung off and Sirius was pushed onto the table, the Daily Prophet sailed to the floor, the headline in bold print for everyone to see:

"Sirius Black Pardoned for the Murder of Lily and James Potter!"

* * *

"So, where are you taking me?" Draco asked as Harry pulled him along. Harry had dragged Draco into the Forbidden Forest as soon as he was out of sight of his team.

"I want to show you something." Harry sounded excited, which seemed entirely strange to Draco. What could be exciting about being in a forest that harbored creatures that could kill humans with minimal effort?

Eventually, they came to a clearing. The canopy of leaves parted and let the sun shine onto a small lake. The water was translucent and sparkled merrily. A waterfall roared away opposite them, partially concealed by a massive boulder.

Harry let go of his hand, took off his shoes and stepped into the water.

"You said, that time, that you wanted to see it again, see me dance."

Draco remembered; when they were in limbo, he saw Harry dance for him in one of the creeks he had summoned. It was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen; Harry had been breathtakingly beautiful in those moments.

"Thank you." A serene voice – Harry's – fluttered into his hearing. And then he was dancing; lifting the water to flow around him, stepping from stone to stone, arms twisting in fluid movement, bending at the hips, hair flying in a seemingly choreographed movement.

"I thought you couldn't do that out of limbo; read people's minds, I mean." Harry was cleared of most of the rocks near the shoreline, twirling and moving his body to an imaginary tune. Water formed half created images before breaking apart from Harry's arms slashing through them.

"I said it depended on certain things, not that I straight out couldn't do it." And Harry was in front of him, smiling at the half surprised look on Draco's face. Harry gently took his hand, pulling him into the water. It wasn't as cold as Draco thought it was going to be, but not as warm as he hoped it would have been either. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, pulling him close. The water got deeper as they went further in, and briefly Draco thought that perhaps he should rid himself of some clothes, lest he drown in them. Then, Harry adjusted his grip on Draco, somehow managing to pull him closer, and the idea quickly fled him. They were closer to the waterfall, some of the mists from it sprinkled over them every few seconds.

He wasn't sure which one of them moved, but suddenly they were kissing. It wasn't like their first kisses, desperate as if they were pressed for time, but slower, gentler.

_Legs around his waist, fingers twisted in his hair, a gasped breath. _

Draco's fingers wound themselves through Harry's long locks.

"_I love you, and I always will even when I'm no longer in this form." Lithe arms around his neck; a soft and slow dance to no music. He loved this woman in his arms._

Harry pulled away from him, drawing him underneath the waterfall.

"_I love this forest." She said lying down next to him, smiling as the breeze played with the bed of flowers they were resting on. _

There was a cave behind the waterfall. The water got shallow abruptly, just enough for them to find their footing, the water at their necks.

'_I'm going to die here…I'm sorry, Aife. So sorry…' Pain, unbearable pain, not just physical. He knew that this would destroy her, crush her heart and extinguish the fire he loved so much. He only hoped they'd be able to find each other again, with Aife's stubborn streak he was sure they'd be together again. And with that last thought, peace swept him up into her arms._

"Draco? You alright?"

"_Aiden? You alright?"_

Draco looked at Harry, who seemed to shift between himself and someone else. His voice and the voice from his memory lined up, matching almost perfectly. Harry's was deeper, but not by much; but that wasn't what was similar, it was everything else - the tilt of Harry's head, the worry shining through his eyes, his green eyes. Draco's head was spinning, and as an idea came into his head, he briefly thought he was really going crazy.

"I'm alright… Aife." He looked up as he said her name, and knew he wasn't crazy. Harry looked shocked, more then shocked, almost devastated.

"You haven't called me that… in a long time." And as the floodgates opened, everything came back to him.

* * *

"Alright, everyone shut up." Harry's voice was so sharp it could have cut through stone. "I'm going to tell you all about what types of magic you all have. Now, there are eight main types of magic, as divided by Merlin - Healing, Defense, Sensory, Offense, Light, Dark, Elemental, and Objective. People do not just have one out of the eight, often times they have five or six types all jumbled together. It doesn't mean anything to have all eight types of magic, just as it doesn't mean anything to just have one." Harry looked around at everyone briefly.

"I'll give you all a quick breakdown of each: Healing is the ability to use your magic for manipulation of the human body; most of the time people with this ability become medical personnel. However, you can also use this ability to stop the lungs from taking oxygen, thus killing someone." Hermione's hand shot up into the air, and Harry blinked a few times before calling on her in an amused fashion.

"So, basically you're saying that no single ability is just 'light' or 'dark?' It depends on the person's intentions?"

"Yes, even the most harmless of spells – say _Wingardium Leviosa_ – can be used for ill. If you levitate someone off a cliff, for instance, and then let them fall you just killed someone. So, intentions are very important, not necessarily what type of magic you have."

"Defense is the ability to defend. Yeah, I know, that needed a lot of explanation." Everyone laughed briefly at his attempt at a joke. "But, seriously, people with this type of magic are generally very talented at making wards, shields, and cloaking things. For some reason, they also tend to be better liars. Offense is the opposite of Defense; it is the ability to attack. People with this category are good with hexes, curses, breaking wards, and can typically handle a weapon with deadly precision. And, most of the time, they're terrible at lying.

"Sensory is the ability to use your senses to your advantage. Empathy, psychometry, dowsing, Legilimency, and the Seer ability all fall under this type. Generally, people with this type of magic have very sensitive nerves; if they were held under the Cruciatus curse their nerves would actually start to disintegrate before they go crazy.

"The Light and Dark category have nothing to do with a person being 'good' or 'evil.' It has to do with their natural leanings towards either end of the magic spectrum. Just because something is called 'Light,' doesn't mean that it is 'good.' Take the hanging spell, for instance. The hanging spell was designed for the hanging of signs, dead livestock, and cooking utensils. Today, it's outlawed by our current Ministry because it has been used to hang people by the neck. And, on the flip side, just because something is 'Dark,' does not mean it is 'evil.' Take the disarming spell. That's a dark spell, but almost every Auror can attest to using it at least once."

"Whoa, wait. The disarming spell is Dark Arts? Are you serious?" Seamus asked incredulously. "There's no way that's true; Hogwarts wouldn't teach it if it was Dark Arts." Harry smiled at him.

"Dark Arts is a branch off of the Dark category. The Dark Arts are classified as: 'Magicks that exploit, harm, influence, or disrupt balance between the planes.' The disarming spell is _not_ Dark Arts, but it _is_ Dark. It's like saying that a unicorn is a horse, but a horse is not a unicorn. The Dark Arts also have one other thing that makes them Dark Arts: they corrupt the blood, tainting it. Dark Arts, like everything in nature, has a counter. Their counter is called Magicks of Heaven. Sounds nice and all, but as with the Dark Arts, the Magicks of Heaven corrupt the blood; instead of tainting the blood, the blood crystallizes within the body. Eventually, your body becomes a living stone, trapping your soul inside it forever. We'll talk more about Dark Arts and Magicks of Heaven at a later date, so just keep in mind what I've said about them."

"Has that ever happened?" Eleanor's voice squeaked out, sounding horrified. Harry smiled encouragingly at her.

"It would have happened to Merlin, were he not murdered. But, I'll talk about that when I come back to the Dark Arts and Magicks of Heaven. Good question, Eleanor." The younger girl blushed.

"Now, Elemental and Objective types are counters to each other. Elemental is using the elements: Water, Fire, Air, Earth, and Metal. Elementals also have better chances of manipulating or distorting time and space. Objective means using objects to do your biding. Telekinesis and other forms of Parapsychology fall under this category. Granted, most objects have the elements in them, but it's not really the same thing. A door frame is made of wood, but the wood is dead, an Elemental wouldn't be able to control it the way an Objective would be able to. So, now that that's all explained, I'll tell everyone what types of magic they have."

"Fred, you're categorized as having Elemental, Dark, Defense, and Sensory magicks. As Fred's twin, George, you have Objective, Light, Offensive, and Sensory magicks. Most twins have only one magic type in common, the rest are opposites. That's how you can tell if two people are true twins or one soul split into two different bodies. Eleanor, you're categorized as having Healing, Offensive, Light, and Objective magicks."

Eleanor squeaked, and Seamus and Dean laughed.

"Offense? You gotta be joking; she can't even attack a fly!" They both burst out laughing. As they were laughing, boiling water was flung onto their faces.

"OW! Damnit, that BURNS!!!" Harry frowned at them.

"That's the sting Eleanor feels when her friends make fun of her. Eleanor doesn't have what it takes to be confident enough to harm those that desire to harm her, but she'll gain that confidence. And I'm not going to have anyone in here bully her like the rest of the people she may encounter in life. So, knock it off." The two boys nodded.

"Now, as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, Luna you have Healing, Defensive, Sensory, and Objective magicks. Ginny has Offensive, Light, Healing, and Elemental. Notice that even though they only share one type, they have one set of opposites. That means their relationship has a bigger chance of lasting for a long time; that they're compatible. Of course, that only works if you believe that Magic makes the personality and not the opposite.

"Seamus, you're categorized as having Sensory, Objective, and Defense. Dean, you've got Offense, Light, and Sensory. Neville, you've got Healing, Sensory, Light, and Elemental. Just because Neville has neither Defense or Offense doesn't mean that he'd be utterly useless in a battle, it just means that his magic isn't good for one or the other; often times that means one would be equally good at both.

"Ron, you have Offensive, Elemental, Dark, and Sensory. Hermione, you have Healing, Light, Objective, and Sensory. And there we have the opposites and one set of similar things. Ron and Hermione's magicks are compatible, but that really shouldn't shock anyone." Here, Harry stopped to throw the couple a small grin. A few people snickered.

"Moving on, Draco, you have Dark, Offensive, Sensory, and Objective. And now for me. I have Dark, Light, Defensive, Sensory, Elemental, and Healing." Silence followed.

"Does anyone know why I have a set of opposites?"

"You're super cool and powerful?" Fred and George inquired as one voice. Harry grinned at them.

"Thank you for thinking so, but no, that isn't the reason. The types of magic you have don't make you more powerful or weaker then anyone else. Anyone else?"

"You're equally good at both?" As soon as Ron said it he frowned. "No, wait… Neville has neither because he's equally good at both. So, it can't be that you're equally good at both."

"Very good, Ron." Hermione's hand shot up into the air, regardless of the fact that no one had raised their hand prior to her. Harry smiled at her, amused by her behavior.

"The crystal could sense both in you, like maybe your core is Light but Dark magic has been cast on you, causing it to become confused?" Answering a question with a question was something Hermione really didn't like to do.

"That's the closest to the truth. The reason my magic has both Light and Dark is because my core is Light, but this body is Dark. A little known fact: My mother was adopted, she's considered 'muggle-born' by name only; no one knows what or who she was before her adoption. However, from looking at my body, certain guesses can be made. I prefer bloody meat, I can go long periods of time with no food, I can run faster then a werewolf, my nails are hard and sharp - even though my nutrition history should render them useless- and I can withstand extreme temperatures. This is only possible because this body is part vampire." Seamus and Dean's jaws dropped, Eleanor went white, and Ginny and Ron looked like they just solved a puzzle. Harry smiled at everyone.

"Don't be alarmed, I'm not after your blood. My mother must have sealed her blood, because mine is sealed as well. Technically speaking, I'm not even enough of a vampire to have some of their natural allergies and you've all seen me eat food. I just retain a few of their… quirks."

"Sealed? What does that mean?" Eleanor's soft voice squeaked.

"Sealed means sealed - to lock something away, but often times not completely or permanently. My mother locked away the vampire side of herself so she could be human, and thus that seal was passed to me. I'm telling you all of this because I trust you, as I hope you all trust me.

"For me to teach you, you will all need to put your faith in me more then you do now. You will need to trust that when I tell you to jump, I will make sure you land safely. You will have to trust me to dictate your actions in a manner that will not harm you. But, we'll get to that another time. It's late and we have classes tomorrow, so meeting adjourned. Good night, everyone."

* * *

He watched his Lord from under a mask, his cloak tight around him. This was right, this was safe. His Lord was the safest choice for him; the Light would fall under this man's feet. That's why he was here; that's why he has essentially pissed all over his family's beliefs and taken the Dark Mark.

It did not matter that as time went on he was becoming increasingly frightened; it didn't matter that in the back of his mind he was screaming, 'What are you doing? What are you doing?;' it did not matter that he had nightmares of killing Umbridge; and it did not matter that Bellatrix Lestrange was _fucking crazy_.

Lestrange laughed manically as she made some muggle woman eat her child's insides, her husband stood silently next to her, looking for all purposes as if he had been Kissed, though there wasn't a Dementor in sight. The two were without masks, most likely the only ones not afraid to show their faces.

Antonin Dolohov -he was recognizable even with a mask- was lounging against what remained of the family's house; a boy no older then his little brother, Ron, was sucking his cock like a trained whore. Augustus Rookwood -he was always recognizable due to his odd way of walking- came out of a neighboring house accompanied by his bloody lover, a woman only slightly less crazy then Bellatrix Lestrange. From what little he knew of her, she liked to watch her husband rape muggles, sometimes even partaking in the acts herself. He knew Rookwood walked the odd way he did because one of his legs was shorter then the other, due to some unfortunate accident.

The small town they were currently terrorizing was a joint muggle/magical town; his Lord was informed of this place by one of the residents. He tried not to think of who sold out this place, tried not to think about what reason they had to bring His Lord's wrath down upon these pathetic people. But, he couldn't help it. He wondered if it was over some petty thing, some stupid misunderstanding that would haunt whomever told of this place even in the next life. He wondered if this place was peaceful; did everyone get along? Were there arguments?

He was brought out of his musings by a grunt from Dolohov. He looked over just as Dolohov thrust violently into the boy's undoubtedly unprepared entrance – the youth screamed in pain and started sobbing. He looked away, disgusted, and his eyes went to the Lestranges, who were looking with interest at where his Lord stood. His Lord was summoning all the Blood Traitors, the ones that were alive at least, to the town's water fountain, which he stood upon.

"My friends, my newly freed friends, amuse yourselves with these Blood Traitors! These muggles and mudbloods that dare to try and live in harmony, as if they were equal. Show the United Kingdom why you are Death Eaters; show them why you were once their nightmares; show them your strength, and show them your anger at these disgusting fools!" Cheers went up around him, and as if renewed by their Lord's words, everyone around him seemed to become more vicious.

"Percy, darling, you really need to lighten up. Our Lord is rejoicing that our friends have returned to us, join in the festivities!" He looked to the one speaking, someone he thought he knew once upon a time. She was beautiful, blood on her robes and a head with no accompanying body clutched in her hand. Her eyes, the only part of her face he could see easily, were sparkling with a kind of wild happiness. This was his Penelope. This was the woman he abandoned his family for; this is the woman he abandoned his morals for; and this is the woman he forfeited his heart to.

Dolohov was finished with the boy, who lay in a puddle of his own blood and tears. Penelope gently removed her mask, an action which Percy mirrored, and their lips crashed together like the coming tide. Her legs wrapping around his waist, she shot off a killing curse at Dolohov's ruined plaything.

* * *

"As you can see, a spell like this would be vastly useful in a battle situation. As much as I hope none of you will have to use it in such context, it is best to at least have the knowledge. Now, your homework will be for you to answer the following question in a well structured essay: What are the potential drawbacks to this spell?" Remus smiled at the groans his students gave.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry gathered their things together and waited patiently for the room to empty. As their classmates were filing out, the trio clustered around Remus.

"I think this was the first class where we got to use our wands this year. My fingers are practically vibrating with joy." Hermione said, completely ignoring the fact that the reason her fingers were vibrating was because they were freezing.

Christmas was coming to Hogwarts and everyone seemed to be a little more high strung than usual. It was a well known fact that the Dark Lord was back now; it was one of the first things the newly appointed Minister of Magic spoke about. Amelia Bones had been voted in as Minister of Magic by the Wizengamot at an emergency council not three days after Fudge had been booted. She would finish his term, which was up in two years, and then a formal election would once more be held. Or so was the plan thus far. Hermione knew things might not turn out that way if the war was still going on in two years.

"For the assignment, can one of the drawbacks be how long the name is? Because, quite frankly, if it takes more then a few seconds to say the damn thing, that can be a serious problem in a battle situation." Ron finished with a chuckle. Remus gave him an appraising look.

"I'm glad to see you're so interested in your schoolwork, Ron. Yes, that can be considered a drawback. And it's a valid one, because you do have a point; seconds can mean lives in a battle situation, after all. Oh, but I hate to say this: Five points from Gryffindor for crude language. Stop cussing, Ron." Remus smiled as Ron rolled his eyes.

A few feet away from them, Harry sat on a desk, looking towards the door with rapt attention. If Hermione concentrated enough, she could just sense what she knew was Draco's mind coming closer. She knew all the mental signatures of every staff member in Hogwarts, all the DA members, and a handful of other students. Most of her fellow DA members were just a few people behind her quota of 200 memorized signatures.

The door opened to admit Draco and Harry was out of his seat instantly. Harry and Draco's signatures were so interconnected it really boggled Hermione's mind. They were like puzzle pieces, fitting together better then perfectly.

"Hello Draco, glad to see you. Maybe now Harry can calm down." Remus teased. Harry paid him no mind, pulling Draco more into the room.

"Guess what?" Harry placed a chaste kiss on Draco's lips, while Remus rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"Sirius said he's going to adopt me." Draco smiled down at him, carding a hand through Harry's hair.

"That's good."

* * *

It had been awhile since the three of them felt the need to bathe together. The Order was no longer monitoring dorm rooms, no doubt because they were tired of hearing gossip and sex. So, all things technically considered, what they were doing wasn't necessary. But, they did it anyway. And, if Ron was completely honest with himself, he knew it had a lot to do with the fact that Hermione was naked, barring a towel, and wet. Having Harry there was just to keep himself from doing something incredibility stupid.

"I think all of you are progressing nicely. Eleanor even beat Neville in last weeks spar." Harry murmured from his end of the luxurious bathtub. His head rolled to the side so that his neck was bared and his hair everywhere. Thinking about it, Ron knew Harry looked attractive, hell, even sexy, but as Ron wasn't bisexual that's where the thought ended.

"The twins are rather surprising; their pranks have gotten even more ingenious because of all the knowledge you're giving us. They may very well be able to open up that joke shop of theirs." Hermione's voice made him look over at her. She had taken her textbooks with her and waterproofed them so she could study.

'Typical Hermione.' He thought with a smile. Of course, he liked watching her study like this as opposed to watching her study in the common room; at least here he could see quite a bit of her cleavage. She looked up at him, an amused look adoring her face.

"You gonna stop staring at me anytime soon, Ron?" He cracked a smile at her.

"You gonna stop being so beautiful anytime soon, Hermione?" Harry giggled softly, causing both of them to look over at him.

"It occurs to me that you two must have some immensely strong self-control. Well, I suppose we can all get out now. People will start to wonder otherwise." Getting out, dried and dressed didn't take that long. Each of them left in ten minute intervals, so getting back to the Tower was easy enough. Harry vanished into the woodworks, most likely to see Draco, and Ron was left with nothing to do but study.

As each went their separate path, Ron realized that sometimes he hated having pesky things like morals and self-control.

* * *

_Dear Ginny,_

_Arthur has told me about you and your girlfriend, Luna. Dear, I can't believe you didn't tell me something so important about yourself_

Molly stopped writing. She frowned, she couldn't sent this; it sounded too judgmental! She cleared the parchment of ink to start over.

_Dear Ginevra,_

'I never call her Ginevra unless I'm angry at her, and I'm not angry at her…' Molly cleared the parchment again. She looked around the kitchen. Bill was at the Burrow, helping with the reconstruction and rewarding. Charlie and Arthur were away on Order business, doing Heavens knows what.

Fleur walked into the kitchen, grabbing some tea for herself. She briefly glanced at Molly, silently inquiring if she wanted some. Molly declined. The house she was staying at temporarily belonged to the Delacour Family. Molly wasn't sure what hurt her more: the knowledge that Bill had been seriously dating someone and didn't bother to introduce the girl to his mother until absolutely necessary or the fact that her daughter had hidden something so important as her sexuality from her. She sighed and restarted her letter.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I'm hoping that this letter finds you in good health; your knees are completely healed already, right? I'm so sorry that I couldn't be there when the whole business went down, but luckily your father was there. As I understand it, Tonks was the one responsible for your injuries; I still can't believe that such a well behaved girl like that could turn out so horrid. Kisses from your mummy, in hopes that you are completely healed. _

_Your father also told me about Artemis Lovegood's daughter, Luna. She was sorted into Ravenclaw, just like her mother. I was friends with Artemis while in school, so was your father, of course. She was a wonderfully intelligent girl, and later an intelligent woman; I was distraught when I heard she died. Luna must've been nine when Artemis died, poor girl. _

_Speaking of Luna, your father tells me you and her are in a relationship. I do wish you would have told me yourself, dear. That way I could have prepared a proper Christmas gift for Luna, but all I can manage now is a scarf. On that subject, Ginny, dear, I really must wonder if you two are…intimate yet. You're both only 14, so don't feel like you have to rush things! Oh, but if you are, remember that being gentle is a wonderful way to go about things! Gentle is always safe, and if you have any questions about anything don't hesitate to ask me. Granted, I'm not sure how things of that nature work between women, but I'm sure I could find out if you needed to know. _

_Love, _

_Mum_

'There, I think by the end of that I have safely mortified her and established that I have no problem whatsoever about her choice in partner. Well done, me!' And with that, she rolled the parchment up and tied it to an owl. She stretched as she watched it fly towards Hogwarts.


	13. Chapter 13

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

Author's Note: For those of you that are familiar with the history of the Welsh Language, you will notice that something that is said in here can't possibly be correct given the time period Welsh was invented. I am well aware of this fact and I am claiming Artistic License. If that annoys you, I am sorry. I'm also taking artistic license with the character Merlin and one of the two men he is based off of.

* * *

Arthur was in a state of shock. His wife was sobbing brokenly into a handkerchief next to him, her despair rolling off in almost tangible waves. The few Order members around them were grim.

"Molly, perhaps it would benefit you to go back to headquarters? We can deal with things here without you." Kingsley spoke softly, his hands gently touching Molly's shoulders. She shook her head, a broken sob issuing from her throat. She took a deep breath, standing straight and attempting to physically hold herself together by sheer force of will.

"You'll need me to help with the… the c-cleanup." Kingsley squeezed her shoulder once more before walking off towards the ruined fountain. The scene was familiar to him, something he had seen during the First War.

Heads – woman, men, children, even animals – were impaled on sticks which protruded out of the circular base; they had no hair and no eyes. Hands and feet were displayed in a grotesque field of flowers around it. The torsos, arms and legs still attached bar the hands and feet, were piled together like rocks piled over a grave. The fountain, which was cracked and had pieces strewn about, appeared as though it was bleeding.

The rest of the village wasn't much better; where buildings once stood, there now only remained ash and dust. Hair and eyes were scattered about haphazardly, if one did not watch where one stepped, fragile parts could easily be crushed. And above them, high in the sky as if mocking them, the Dark Mark lay.

"Molly, we'll need your help now. Can you manage?" Albus sounded so tired, so ancient. A few of the younger members gave him concerned glances, praying he wasn't getting too old for this. Molly's tears dried and she nodded, once, and got her wand out.

Molly was needed to remove the Dark Mark from the sky. The mark was like fabric, just waiting to be unraveled. Thread by thread was pulled out from it, until there was nothing left of the abomination; it took at least an hour and it was an exhausting job. While Molly worked on removing the Dark Mark, everyone else gathered the bodies and cleansed them by fire – if they were buried the Dark Magic still in the corpses would contaminate the ground, leaving the earth barren save for the stench of rotting plant life.

Just as they set about cleaning up the remains, Daily Prophet reporters descended upon them like vultures to a battleground.

* * *

Eleanor tried to pretend she was asleep. She desperately hoped she was a good actress or that they just didn't notice her. No one ever noticed her before Harry, and right now she hoped against hope that they weren't as sharp-witted as he was.

"The Dark Lord does not care about what was _supposed_ to happen, he cares about _what did happen!_ You utter idiot! Have you any idea how this is going to look? He'll kill you, you pathetic child! He'll _kill you_! You said you'd be able to lure Potter into a false sense of security and you haven't even _talked to him!_ What are you going to tell him?" The boy sounded harsh. Eleanor could hear the other girl he was talking to crying.

'Why can't they leave? Leave, please leave!' Eleanor didn't know how much longer she could hold her shaking inside. She was terrified, but she _couldn't_ start shaking, they'd discover she was there!

"Please, you have to help me. If I don't meet him this weekend, he'll kill my little sister! She's only eight! Please, you have to help me, Warren." She pleaded with the boy, Warren.

"I can't help you, Marietta. You said you could do it, so you should have done it." Warren walked away, right by the couch Eleanor was.

She had to tell Harry, she _had_ to; he'd know what to do. As Marietta walked past her, Eleanor held her breath. She had to tell Harry.

* * *

Draco stared into the fire as if in a trance. He was in Severus' office, waiting for a chance to talk to his father. With Yule so close, Lucius had come to see Severus and both men retreated into Severus' room about an hour ago.

Held in his hands were the dolls Harry had made for the two currently absent men.

_There was a small girl crying against Aife's chest; the older girl holding her close with a pained expression – it was obvious Aife thought of this child as hers. The little ten year old clutched at her, hoping that she could hold Aife there, that she wouldn't have to go to Hogwarts and leave her for a year. _

"_Diamond, Diamond, calm down. Here, I'll give you this, so you can have a bit of me while you wait to see me again." The little girl looked up and Aife presented a small rag doll. _

Draco remembered that his Other had always been good at making the dolls ever since – ever since… something. Someone taught his Other how to make them, once, a long time ago. He couldn't remember who or even what gender his Other had been then.

'How long have we been together? How long have we been living and dying? Harry remembers things – was it always like that?' Draco didn't know if he could bear having Harry remembering everything, even things he didn't want to remember. Did he remember them dying, just as vividly as Draco did? Did he ache when he thought of people long gone? Had Harry always remembered him, even when he and Draco fought? Did he ache all those times Draco had said he hated him, or even implied it? Did it still hurt to see Albus sometimes, because the man looked so much like…so much like… Who?

It was a name on the tip of his tongue, on the tip of his memory. This had been happening a lot lately; Draco remembered his last life, but it was obvious that there were even more behind it. He watched the flames dance together and thought of nothing in hopes that he'd remember things on his own.

He remembered the first time he met Tom Riddle. The boy was just like every other first year – nervous and apprehensive. He remembered seeing Diamond next to him, and the threads that tied the two of them together. Aife was alternately happy and distressed, the bond those two shared was not a bond to be trifled with; it was one of the most dangerous bonds of love out there. And it had led to horrible things occurring in the past… Wars and entire civilizations vanishing overnight. Of course, that was only the really extreme cases, and who knew if it really had to do with the bond or if it was just the circumstances. Still, it was too much of a coincidence to actually be one.

He remembered that Tom had been a typical orphaned child – he had his bouts of loneliness, moments of unhappiness and cruelty. But, he had been intelligent, clever, and not without a heart. His heart may have been guarded with barbed wire and cut glass, but he still had one. The child and young man he remembered had very little in common with the Lord Voldemort he had become.

Their only similarity seemed to be their power and intellect. The love and compassion Tom had shown a select few was gone. The utter disgust at massacres and people drunk on power had vanished, and in its place there was bloodlust and a thirst for power. What had happened to the child he remembered? What had happened to the young man who had been so frightened that Aife would not let him date the woman of his dreams? What had happened to the man that was close to hyperventilation on his wedding day? Draco smiled as he remembered that day.

_As a to-be-brother-in-law, Aiden looked on in amusement as Tom paced in his room. The poor man was practically hyperventilating, he was so nervous._

"_What if I mess up? What if she says no? What if someone objects? Oh God, what if she doesn't show up and Aife is the one who appears to hand me a letter? What if Aife kills me for marrying her little sister? What if -?" Aiden started laughing. Still chuckling, he placed his hands on Tom's shoulders._

"_You'll be fine. Aife wouldn't have given you permission to marry Diamond if she didn't want you two to marry. I know that you and Aife sometimes have your days, more of them now after that business with Myrtle, but she wouldn't have granted you permission if she didn't want you two to marry." Tom stared at him, clearly still terrified, but nodded. _

_And later, as Aiden watched Tom's eyes sparkle the second they landed on Diamond, he remembered just why he liked this kid so much._

Draco frowned. It was hard to believe that things had changed so drastically. He could only imagine how hard it was for Harry. After all, not only was Voldemort the same person he once saw as a younger brother, but he was also Salazar Slytherin's heir. Draco knew that must cut at Harry, because Salazar was… Salazar was... What? He was what?

"This is getting fucking annoying." The fire sparked as if in agreement. He wanted someone to talk to – someone who wasn't Harry because whenever he was around Harry, everything seemed to be contradictory and confusing. Someone who wasn't his father, because as much as Lucius was a great father, they weren't really all that close any more – it just came with growing up – and he couldn't talk to his Godfather about this for the same reasons. With a start, Draco realized who he wanted to talk to: Narcissa.

God, how he missed his mother. He could talk to her about anything and it seemed that she had a patented answer. She always knew what to say and how to say it – but she was dead, and there wasn't anything he could do about that. He sighed, standing to place the dolls Harry had made for his father and godfather back where he found them. He'd talk to his father tomorrow; it was getting late and he was getting tired.

* * *

_Draco stood in an open courtyard, surrounded by grand and elegant buildings. In front of him was a building with two floors and what looked like a smaller structure on the roof, all with grand, open archways. Great pillars rose up in front of the building, seeming to separate the open courtyard from a street without the use of an actual wall. _

_Next to the structure was a temple, just as decorated as the building next to it. And, as he stepped closer to look at these magnificent buildings, a familiar symbol caught his eye: the Malfoy crest etched into the side of one of the pillars he was standing in front of. His mind went through a quick whirlwind of deduction. He knew just about every architectural project his family had ever been involved in; it was something he had been taught from a young age. The Malfoy family didn't work on many architectural projects; typically the family was more political then masonry in nature. But, every now and then, a Malfoy would be born with an architectural flair. They had helped with bits and pieces of Hogwarts, a few of their own Manors, small public buildings here and there, and more than a few of the Roman forums and ancient temples. _

_With that in mind, Draco stared back at the building with its huge arches. He took a few steps back, looking at it, trying to see if he could recognize the structure. After a few seconds, it clicked. This was the Basilica Aemilia in its full glory. The muggles saw this, and all of the Roman Forum, as naught but a ruin. But, it still stood, it was still used today by Wizards; it simply appeared older - more weathered down. The paint on the stones had washed mostly away, and the figurines in the Roman Forum had lost their luster and magnificence. _

_But, as he took in his surroundings, this forum did not look old and weathered. It looked new; empty and barren, but new. The engravings on the floor and stairs still stood out, none of the Latin seemed warped or garbled as it did now. _

"_Is anything wrong?" The voice came so suddenly that Draco jumped and whirled around, hand going for his wand before he realized that he recognized the voice. His eyes landed on Harry, and the other boy looked at him in bewilderment._

"_We're in the Roman Forum."_

"_Yes, we are in its' shadow. We're dreaming."_

"_Dreaming? But… you're not in Limbo."_

"_I don't have to be. I told you, I was there because I had to be; you were there because you wanted to be."_

"_So, what? I want to be here? I see you everyday… why would I want to see you here too?" Harry looked somewhat hurt by the words and Draco quickly replayed them in his head. 'That wasn't what I meant…'_

"_I know that wasn't what you meant… it just sounded… not so nice."_

_Draco reached out, touching Harry's face gently – it almost felt like a physical wound in his chest, the thought that he had hurt Harry._

"_I do want to see you… just not in a dream." Draco swayed forward, as if to kiss the other boy in front of him, but thought better of it and retreated back. _

"_Why are we in the Roman Forum? Why does it look like this?"_

"_It looks the way it looks."_

"_No, it looks the way it looked once, long ago. I've been to this place, here and now, in this lifetime, and it doesn't look this nice anymore."_

"_Age does that to things."_

_Draco looked at Harry carefully, trying to piece together what Harry was trying to tell him. He looked back to the ground, the engravings that showed perfectly, the look of the new paint. How could Harry possibly know enough about this place to construct an exact replica…?_

"_The idea is right there, Draco…I know you're thinking of it, in the back of your mind…"_

"_You were here. When this was built…" Draco looked around. Sometimes, he would give speeches from that podium, he remembered doing so…He closed his eyes as an almost painful longing for this place overcame him._

"_And so was I. This is where it started, isn't it?" He closed his eyes. Snippets of events came to him: children playing in these streets, betting in the Circus Maximus. Colors, and sounds flew by, and a strange buzz dominated his hearing. He could feel the start of a migraine coming and it felt as if something was slipping…_

* * *

Draco woke with a start. He was in his bedroom, down in the dungeons. Habitually, he checked his wards to see if they were sound; they were. His head throbbed, and as he become more aware of his surroundings, he had the sense to try and figure out what time it was.

One o'clock. In the morning.

He groaned as he flopped back onto his bed. Now he was never going to get back to sleep!

A prickling sensation caused him to sit up, wand drawn and mind alert. He was no longer alone, but his wards were undamaged.

"It's just me. I wanted to see if you had a horrible headache." Harry came out from the shadows of some corner. Draco stretched his magic across to him, trying to see Harry's signature to ensure it was really him.

It was, and gods did his head hurt.

Harry came and sat next to him, his hands easing Draco back onto his bed, fingers massaging his temples.

"Why can't I remember like you can? It's all fragmented…" Draco's head pounded, it felt as if it would split right down the middle. Harry hushed him, not answering his questions.

"You're doing really well in the DA. Everyone is really, even little Eleanor. Well, she's the same age as Ginny and Luna, but she seems so _small_, you know? And, I think it's funny that Ginny was so worried that her parents would react to her and Luna badly; did she show you the letter she got from her mum? I wonder what Mrs. Weasley thinks of Ron and Hermione… not that there is a Ron and Hermione just yet, but it'll happen soon. And -" Draco yanked Harry down into a kiss to silence his ramblings.

The effect was instantaneous. Harry just seemed to melt and all the nervousness that was gathering up fled. Strangely, or perhaps not, Draco's migraine seemed to lessen as the moments went by. Harry's fingers traveled down his face, over his neck and curled in his nightshirt. This kiss was the type Draco dreamt about, the ones he remembered from pervious lifetimes –passionate, with emotions and thoughts bundled in it, and hot.

Draco ran his hands down Harry's back; the smaller boy was still too skinny. Harry shifted so that he was straddling Draco's hips and the movement caused delicious friction.

From this close, Draco realized that Harry smelt like peaches and rain. Harry gently pushed away from him, hovering above the other boy.

"What?" Draco carded his fingers through Harry's hair.

"I can't be caught here by your roommates, for both our sakes." Harry laid his head down on Draco's chest, looking up at him. "I think I should go back to the Tower…"

Draco was pretty sure that most teenage boys in this position would be slightly insulted by the fact that their lover didn't seem to want to make out with them… especially when said lover had actually had sex with at least one other person before. However, since Draco was not most teenage boys, he supposed that accounted for the reason he wasn't that insulted. Besides, he was almost positive that the Order had left out a very vital aspect of Harry's abuse.

"I know very well that things will go badly if the wrong people find us in bed together. However, you don't have to insult my intelligence by saying that's the reason you don't want to continue this." Draco kissed Harry's forehead gently.

"Draco… it's not that I don't want to…"

"I know. At least, I think I know. I've never pushed you before; I'm certainly not going to push you now."

When Draco woke up the next morning, Harry was gone and in his place was a purple hyacinth.

* * *

"Alright, everyone's here, so we'll start. As per usual, we will start with a lecture of sorts, head right into a question and answer session and then into actual training. No one's going to be missed for at least a few hours, no? If that answer is yes, you'd best leave now and I will find you later to yell at you." Fortunately for all involved, no one left the room. Harry smiled.

"We'll be talking about the Dark Arts and Magicks of Heaven. Obviously I'm not going to actually teach you how to _perform_ them, but I will teach you how to recognize the effects of both in objects and humans. I'll also teach you how to fight against some of the more… not so pretty aspects of them. So, as I've already told you, the Dark Arts are defined as Magicks that exploit, harm, influence, or disrupt balance between the planes. I don't have to explain what exploiting, harming or influencing is, but I do need to explain what exactly it means to disrupt balance between the planes. Trying to bring back the dead by using the Dark Arts is considered as disrupting the balance. Trying to bind a god or goddess to this plane, or trying to cause an apocalypse is disrupting the balance. Use of the Dark Arts, as I've said, taints the blood. It turns you into something less then human and leaves you susceptible to things you would have been able to fight as a human.

"Now, the Magicks of Heaven are defined as Magicks that steal from all to give to one. Basically, it's when a person uses magic to steal magic from another source. Use of the Magicks of Heaven crystallizes the blood and you turn into a living stone, with your soul trapped inside. Now, overuse of the Dark Arts has happened before, many times before in fact, so that's why we know exactly what happens when one overuses it. However, the Magicks of Heaven have never been overused. Typically, people steer clear of them because they're simply too dangerous. But, the only case that was close was that of Merlin; our Merlin, not the muggles' Merlin. So, questions?" Inevitability, Hermione's hand was the first one up.

"What do you mean, 'Our Merlin'? There're two?" Everyone in the room gave her a very strange look. Even Harry himself was remiss – he figured Hermione had already known that – but of course that was a stupid thing to assume. After all, she was muggleborn; she didn't even know about the wizarding world until she turned eleven.

"Ah, this is a really good example of how flawed our current community is…" Draco muttered. He sighed before turning to address Hermione.

"Yes, the two Merlins are actually two different people. The muggle Merlin is the one associated with King Arthur, Lancelot, Guinevere, the Round Table, and all that stuff. That is actually the Wizard's Merlin's grandson. Our Merlin is someone from Ancient Rome, his name actually wasn't Merlin – everyone just called him that because his mother was a Welsh Barbarian and that's what she would call him. It was, at first, a way to tease him about his "unclean" blood no doubt, but it stuck and he went down in our history as Merlin. When King Arthur's Merlin came onto the scene, he was addressed as Merlin only after he died and was written about. When he was alive, he was addressed by his actual name, which was Ambrosius Aurelianus Dumbledore – our Headmaster's great-great-great-granduncle. Understand?"

Harry could see the gears still turning in Hermione's head, but she nodded and thanked Draco for explaining.

"Okay, what about all that 'use the Dark Arts and you will lose your mind!' business? Is that just Ministry/parental propaganda or is it actually true?" Dean asked, he sounded curious with a touch of sarcasm.

"The Dark Arts make you less then human and thus you become more susceptible to things, like madness. Some people who dabble too deep do wind up mad – a combination of their lost humanity and the things they did to other people. Of course, not everyone ends up mad, just the majority. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah, thanks, Harry."

"Anymore questions?"

"Yeah, why are they called Magicks of Heaven when clearly they're just as dark as the Dark Arts?" Neville sounded confident, it made Harry smile.

"Because they're not dark. The Dark Arts feel like Dark Magic whereas the Magicks of Heaven feel like Light Magic. You'll be able to feel the difference yourself once we get to Training. Good question." No one else seemed to have any questions, so Harry decided to move on.

He grabbed his bag from where it lay against a wall and went about setting things up. He conjured four tables, each one getting its own set of four flimsy, see-through, conjured up walls and a door. Onto each table was placed an item pulled from his bag.

"Okay, as you can see, I've made four little rooms and placed an object in each of them. Now, two of those objects were used in a Dark Arts ritual, and still have the feel of that magic inside them. If you use an object in a Dark Arts ritual, the taint of that magic will stay in it until it is cleansed by fire. The same is true of human bodies – the magic taints and then corrupts anything around it. That's why you can't bury bodies that were killed by the Dark Arts – you'll corrupt everything in the vicinity. Now, on the flip side, objects that have lingering air of the Magicks of Heaven in them feel barren. There's nothing left to them. Humans that had the Magicks of Heaven cast upon them feel much the same way – the presence that should be there isn't and, if you know how to look properly, they look distorted as well.

"Each of you will go into each of the rooms – alone – while the rest of us practice dueling in timed intervals. The order in which each of you will go into the rooms is as follows, please remember it yourself: Ginny first, then Ron, Luna, Eleanor, Hermione, Draco, Fred, Neville, George, Seamus, then Dean. And, for your peace of mind, the objects cannot harm you – but please do not touch them anyway."

"Where in the world did you get those things? It's probably illegal to even have them here!" Dean was riled and rightly so. Harry looked off to a shadowed corner, something like sadness and shame creeping into his expression, before it was wiped clean.

"Sometimes, a question in better then the answer. Alright, Ginny go on, the rest of you pair up and try to disarm the other - I want an emphasis on speed - real fights aren't going to be slow- and use everything you can think of. Go!"

* * *

"Albus, that book of Merlin's is very interesting, historically and academically, but this book that was recovered from the Malfoy ruins… It's like reading a horror story, only to realize it's real. Accounts of massacres, various Dark Arts rituals, and even a few Magicks of Heaven rituals – it's truly disturbing to read. On the other hand, both books discuss various persons of fame today as if they were just the person next door, which, of course, they were then. Then there are some people I've never even heard of, but were forces to be reckoned with. Like the Advisor of Merlin, Lady Saliar, who was also a General of the Roman Legion." Remus lay both of the texts down on the table.

"It gets worse, I'm afraid. The book from the Malfoy ruins was the accounts of a military leader that worked directly under Merlin during the Roman Empire. It says that a lot of the various rituals were done for or in Merlin's name. At least two massacres were because Merlin needed bodies for some ritual or another. The rituals using Magicks of Heaven were all completed by Merlin as well. Near the end, even the writer can see that something is wrong with Merlin – his movements are stiff and he hardly moves anymore." Remus sat down, done with his report.

"Times were different then, we can never know for sure exactly what happened. Was there anything else of interest, or was it all just damning evidence of my great-great-great-great granduncle?" Albus massaged his temple. Remus could only half comprehend what it must feel like to have what was essentially his family's dirty laundry blowing in the wind in front of the whole Order of the Phoenix.

"Well, the origins of Vampirism and Lycanthropy are discussed. Not in the General's book, but in Merlin's journal. Apparently, his mad genius brother was experimenting with animals, one of his potions exploded and a vampire bat and a wolf were doused in it. The explosion also caused a hole, and they escaped. The interesting thing about this is when the wolf bit a human it took almost a week for the effect to happen. He became a bloodthirsty beast, but it was permanent; he never regained human form. And, the one who was bit by the bat didn't start to show signs of Vampirism until week later as well – that's when the aversion to sunlight kicked in and he stopped needing human food."

"Well, that clearly stops the medical debate: Lycanthropy is not a curse, it's a disease – it's obviously mutated since then." Lucius Malfoy said in a bland tone.

"I find it interesting that both came from the results of a botched potions experiment. What in the world was being worked on that when upset it changes molecular structure?" Severus Snape sounded half curious and half awed.

"Was there anything else?" Albus asked.

"Just one thing: apparently, some families have something called a Guide. It's like a guardian and a babysitter, I think? But they seem to also be very powerful; I was just thinking it might be a bad thing to run into, since a lot of Death Eaters are Purebloods. But, I'm not really sure if that's relevant at all…" Remus trailed off. Lucius Malfoy sighed irritably.

"Albus I'm sure you are aware of what Lupin is alluding to, being a pureblood yourself."

"Yes, I am, Lucius. Remus, that isn't important. The Guides have all been put to sleep, much like the De Grindelwalds." Remus shuddered at the mention of the De Grindelwalds. He may not have been alive for the war with Grindelwald, but he had read books and talked to people who were.

The De Grindelwalds were the favorites of Grindelwald: soldiers that could eradicate cities in a night. They were powerful and dangerous; they were that generation's Death Eaters. They served Grindelwald with a zealot's passion, and they were loyal to a madding degree - there was no betrayal amongst them, not even the thought of it. Rumor had it that they had given up their will and hearts to Grindelwald and in exchange they were granted limited immortality – they could live for up to a thousand years before they died. Remus wasn't sure if he believed that particular rumor or not.

"So, Lucius, the books that you 'borrowed' from the Ministry storeroom… I do hope you intend to return them." Albus looked at Lucius Malfoy as a parent would look at a child who was caught drawing on the walls. Malfoy bristled, but kept his tone civil as he responded that he would, eventually, return them.

And the meeting went on from there.

* * *

Ginny walked through the corridors with Luna drifting beside her, their hands clasped. Luna was reading the letter from Ginny's mother, smiling and blushing just a little. Ginny herself was in shock – her mother didn't care that she liked girls. She thought there'd be more disappointment, more denial, just more drama on her mother's end. She was happy that her mother accepted her, it was just shocking.

"There are a lot of Crawlshoes around here lately." Luna commented as she handed Ginny's letter back. Ginny blinked at her girlfriend, confused. "Crawlshoes are stray emotions; feelings like vanity, arrogance, and lust. Normally, there aren't a lot of them just floating about in Hogwarts. It's odd." Ginny nodded, not sure what to make of the comment.

A suit of armor clattered to the ground a few steps behind them, causing them both to jump.

"Dammit, Peeves! Will you –?!" Ginny cut herself off as she noticed that the cause of the disturbance was not Peeves, but Crookshanks. The fat cat had a mouse in its mouth and was looking at the fallen suit of armor as if to say "this is your fault, you know."

As the armor picked itself up and Ginny and Luna continued towards the Ravenclaw common room, it occurred to Ginny that she hadn't seen Peeves at all this term, and it was almost the Christmas holiday break.

'Well, maybe he decided to stop being so annoying. Or maybe he's just been busy with the new first years or something.' Ginny nodded to herself, and didn't give it another thought.

* * *

Harry wrapped one leg around Draco's waist as they kissed. Harry could hear Draco's heart beating rather franticly in the back of his mind, could feel every angle of Draco's body pressed against his, and Harry loved it.

'Maybe we shouldn't be doing this right here…' He thought to himself, even as his hips grinded against Draco's and he swallowed his lover's groans. Harry was drunk off of Draco, not wanting to stop himself. A half delirious giggle slipped past his lips.

The shadows from the little nook they were in were perfect – Harry twisted and pulled at them until they created a curtain of darkness, hiding the pair from prying human eyes. Draco's mouth forged a trail down Harry's jaw to his neck as Harry's fingers wound through Draco's hair.

The sound of a door banging made them both jump. Draco swore and pulled his wand out, not bothering to remove himself from Harry's grasp.

"I swear to the heavens, Peeves, I will find a way to hurt you!" Draco growled.

A chuckle, one so familiar that Harry paled, sounded from just beyond the shadows. Harry released the hold he had on the shadows and they faded back to their own corners. Sirius was leaning against the wall, smirking at the now visible pair.

"Sirius!" Harry squeaked out. He wasn't blushing, and boy did he thank his lucky stars for that, but he was still very embarrassed. Harry realized that his leg was still around Draco's waist and quickly dropped it to the ground.

"Yes, me. Draco, is it? Lovely to meet you, must do this again sometime – like when you're not taking advantage of my godson. Speaking of my godson – soon to be actual son – I was wondering if I could borrow him? Oh, I can? Lovely." Sirius had by then walked up to them, so he grabbed Harry by the shoulder and led him away.

* * *

Harry lay staring at nothing as he tried to go to sleep. Something was bothering him. He turned on his side, trying to force himself to sleep. There was nothing wrong – nothing he knew of – but still, something was bothering him.

'Maybe I'm still mortified that Sirius caught me in such a position…?' He closed his eyes.

_He opened his eyes to an abandoned train station. It looked old – all wood and there were cracks in the ceiling where sunlight shone in. It was very small, with only two sets of train tracks on opposing sides of the platform he was on. It was empty, barring the crooked figure seated upon a bench not too far from where Harry was standing. _

_Upon closer inspection of the figure, Harry found that it was a male with a woman's smile. The crooked posture came from a shadow that appeared to be eating the man's back. Harry cleared his throat to speak._

"_It's eating you alive."_

"_I'm not alive."_

"_Still, isn't that uncomfortable?" Harry tilted his head, taking a few steps towards the man._

"_No."_

_The shadow screeched, jerking away suddenly and flew away. The man stood straighter and Harry got a good look at him. He had dark hair, dark blue eyes, and his face seemed to glow. He looked so familiar to Harry, yet he knew he had never seen the man before. _

"_Which train are you waiting for?" The question tumbled out of Harry's mouth. _

"_The same one you're waiting for."_

"_I'm not waiting for a train."_

"_Exactly." The man smiled at Harry and the whole area seemed to chill. Harry realized that, even though he could see the man's face, he had no idea what skin color he was – or even if he had skin to begin with. He wanted to step back, but when he moved his feet, he went forward instead. _

"_What are you doing here?" _

"_I'm here to help you look for what you've lost."_

"_Lost? I haven't lost anything." The smile faded from the man's face._

"_You haven't even realized that you lost it. Oh, children today are so careless. Here, lucky for you I found it." He grabbed Harry's wrist, pulled him forward and pressed something into his hand._

_It was a Prefect's badge._

Harry jolted awake. His left hand stung, and upon inspection of it he realized why. The Prefect's badge from his dream seemed to be almost melded into his palm, the edges sunk so deep in his skin that he knew it would hurt when he removed it.

* * *

Arthur sighed as he lay down next to his wife. He had been working with his sons and a few members of the Order on the rewarding of the Burrow, now that the reconstruction was finished. It was a tiring business.

Molly was reading the bloodline book Malfoy had given her – the Weasley Bloodline. 'She'll be done soon, I'll probably be half asleep by the time she's finished.'

"Goodnight, Molly." She nodded, no doubt not fully listening to what he said. He was almost asleep when Molly started to shake him awake.

"Arthur, Arthur, how old is your family line?" He yawned as he sat up to look at her. It was an odd question, one that he really had to think about.

"I don't know. You're the one with the book, you tell me." Molly frowned, biting her lip. It reminded him of when she was younger, when they were still in Hogwarts; she used to bite her lip like that whenever she studied.

"Well, according to this, the Weasley's start with Septimus Weasley who married Cedrella Black in 1931." She handed the book to him. Baffled, Arthur took the book from her, flipping to the back of it.

Bloodline books updated themselves magically; whenever a member of the family is born, that member gets placed before their predecessors, closer to the front. Hence, the first member of every bloodline was in the back as opposed to in the front.

'But, that's not possible… we can't be that young… We have a sleeping Guide after all.'

"I don't know, Molly. Maybe we changed our name or something. It's late; let's think about it another time." Arthur put the book on the night stand near his side of the bed.

* * *

The room was utterly destroyed.

"Where is it? Where is it?" Voldemort stood in the thick of the mess, frantically looking for something.

"It's not here, why isn't it here?! It should be here!" He picked up a desk, throwing it against the wall so hard it broke apart as if it were glass. He rummaged amongst the mess of furniture and paperwork that littered the floor.

"It's not here… Where did you hide it?" He collapsed on the floor, seemingly talking to nothing.

"_It's not important, Marvalo. You have other things to do."_ The voice of his Master, ringing soft and gentle wrapped around Voldemort, as if arms were encircling him.

"It's important. It's the most important thing in the world. Where did you hide it?" Voldemort stood, looking about the room in desperation. He saw what looked like a glimmer near the remains of what was once a bed. It now resembled bits of fluff and fabric tossed carelessly into a blender. Voldemort nearly vaulted over to it, scrabbling to see if the glimmer was what he was looking for.

It was a silver locket in the shape of a heart with decorations of birds and three imbedded rubies. This was what he was looking for. Reverently, he opened the worn locket with a look of obsessed awe. Inside was a picture of a young woman with ink black hair and a ruby red smile. Her blue eyes sparkled with life and love. He loved her eyes, the deep levels of sapphire that enflamed his senses. He closed it, holding it close.

His Diamond, his lovely, lovely Diamond. Taken from him early on, but far from forgotten.

"_Marvalo, you will need your family's Guide if we are to even hope to accomplish half of what needs to be done to get what you want; which means that I need one of my people inside Hogwarts. Stage an attack on the village near it, on a day when some of the students will be there. I can easily kill and resurrect one to send back inside the school." _

Voldemort nodded, placing the locket into a pocket for safe keeping.

"_I hunger for blood, for pain, for tears. Let me take control once more, let me feed on someone, Marvalo. I hunger."_

"Yes, Master. There are some prisoners in this house."

* * *

Hermione stood in front of the gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office. It stared at her just as steadily as she did towards it. She had run out of sweet names and it still didn't open.

'Perhaps Professor Dumbledore finally realized that it was easy to guess the password if you knew his quirks?' She thought to herself.

She wasn't even sure what she was doing here. It was the night before Christmas holiday break, and here she was at midnight standing in front of the Headmaster's gargoyle. But, Harry was right, and Hermione thought it wise to try and get the Headmaster more aware of the problem, if he wasn't aware of it already.

The problem was Peeves. No one had seen him this term, and what was more was that no one really thought it was odd. Harry had asked around – no one had seen the poltergeist and that was cause to worry, apparently. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it, so he was in the Library trying to see if something there would help. And here Hermione was, going to the Headmaster for help.

'Maybe I am a child, but I think it's good that I can admit when I need help. I think it's good that I can still trust authority figures, even when I've been shown that so many of them aren't worth trusting. I trust them until they show me that they can't be trusted. If that's childish, then so be it.'

A melodic trill caused her to turn quickly, wand at the ready. Fawkes was sitting on a window sill, looking at her in curiosity. Hermione put her arm down, still holding her wand but no longer on the defensive.

"Good evening, Fawkes." Hermione said, feeling a bit silly. But Harry had said that phoenix's were very intelligent and deserved to be treated with respect, and Hermione found no reason to find fault with that reasoning. The phoenix trilled a song in response.

"I don't suppose you could get the Headmaster could you? I have something I want to talk to him about. I think it's important." The phoenix stared at her for a while longer, and then trilled again. It was a beautiful sound.

Hermione felt more than heard the gargoyle moving behind her and the stairway appeared. She smiled at the phoenix in thanks and held very still when he flew over to perch on her shoulder.

She went up the stairs, and the door to the office opened to admit her. Once inside the office, Fawkes flew from her shoulder to his perch. She looked around the office, realizing that it looked somewhat ominous in the moonlight. She could feel the Headmaster's magical signature, a warm fluttery sensation not unlike a grandfather's hug. Still, it wasn't just his magic she could feel, but someone else's as well. Someone she wasn't familiar with. Before she could try and get a feel for it, a voice startled her out of her thoughts.

"Was there something I could help you with, Miss Granger?" She turned towards the headmaster's voice. He was seated behind his desk, holding a cup of steaming liquid. He was wearing purple flannel pajamas with little moving shooting stars. On his head was a floppy pointed hat, not unlike what Hermione had seen wizards wear in cartoons she watched as a child. She smiled a bit, amused by the Headmaster's quirky nature.

"Yes, it's about Peeves, sir." He waved her to a seat – a huge orange monstrosity that was very squishy and comfortable – and asked if she wanted some hot cocoa.

"Oh, if it's not too much trouble, hot cocoa would be very nice." As a tea cup set floated over and set itself to preparing her a cup of hot cocoa, the headmaster started to speak.

"Well, if this is about how as a Prefect you'd very much like Peeves removed, I'm sorry to say that you stayed up for nothing." Hermione blew on her hot cocoa.

"No, that isn't what this is about. Rather, I'm a little worried. It's just come to my attention that no one has seen Peeves around at all this term. To my understanding, such a thing has never occurred before, so…" Hermione trailed off, uncertain as to how to explain why this made her uneasy. She took a sip of her hot cocoa.

"Ah, yes. That is rather odd, isn't it?" He sounded casual, but Hermione could see that the twinkle had left his eyes, showing that he was actually disturbed by this news. "Well, are you quite sure that no one has seen him? Not to sound offensive, but you seem to only take company with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. Just because you three haven't seen him -"

Hermione cut him off, an odd sort of pride in herself bubbling up.

"It's not just us three. None of the Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, or Gryffindors have seen him at all. Harry, Draco, and Ginny checked. Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, and Sprout haven't seen him; and even Professor Lupin and Harry's godfather haven't seen him." The headmaster sighed, and Hermione thought he looked older.

"I'm afraid that I don't know what that means, Miss Granger. I assure you I will look in to it, but it might be nothing."

"Of course, Headmaster." She sipped her hot cocoa, wondering if the reason Harry wanted to keep this to himself wasn't because he didn't trust the headmaster, but rather that he didn't want to overburden him.

* * *

Author's Notes: Alright, there we go, chapter 13. I'm sorry it took so long for me update. However, and most of you don't want to hear this, but since I'm going back to school my update pace is going to be even slower, I'm afraid. Especially as it's my first year of college. I'm sorry!


	14. Chapter 14

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

Author's Notes: My update pace really sucks, doesn't it? Happy Holidays and New Years!

* * *

Sirius wasn't sure if he wanted to kill Draco Malfoy or shake his hand. On the one hand, his soon to be son-in-law was obviously head over heels in love with the boy. This made him a good kid, as he made Harry happy. However, Sirius couldn't help but remember seeing the two of them wrapped around each other in a corridor at Hogwarts, and that made Sirius mad, as was his right as Harry's soon-to-be father. Lily would have welcomed the boy with open arms; James would have had a heart attack.

'But James and Lily aren't here anymore. Only you and Remus are.' So, what was Sirius to do? Accept the boy because Harry needed someone in his life, or detest the boy because he might hurt Harry later on down the road? And Sirius had seen the pictures of Harry's cross-dressing endeavor - there was a small article about it in the Daily Prophet. Harry had obviously done that to show that he didn't care that Malfoy was a Slytherin; it was a show of support. Which meant that Harry was really serious about this – it wasn't a crush.

So, what to do?

"Black, still up?" Lucius Malfoy came into the kitchen, looking immaculate – which was unusual considering it was four in the morning.

"I just woke up, what are you doing up? Don't you usually sleep 'till nine?" It was true, the elder Malfoy usually slept until exactly nine on the dot unless he was needed up for an emergency.

"Draco is coming home – well, here – for the holidays." He spoke as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

"So, you got up at four in the morning?" Sirius asked incredulously. Malfoy got out bread, peanut butter, and an apple.

"I haven't done Christmas shopping; I usually do it the day he comes back, that way I'm already in London when the train comes." He opened the peanut butter and located a spreading knife.

"So, you got up at four in the morning to go _shopping_?" It sounded ridiculous to Sirius; why would you want to wake up that early to go shopping of all things? Malfoy bit into his sandwich as he came to sit across from Sirius.

"I do hope you've eaten already as you're coming with me, Cousin." Sirius stared.

* * *

_A child's lifeless eyes stared, the child's body mangled and broken. In the distance, a raven screamed. _

_A house was burning, screams from the occupants still ringing in the air. The full moon shone merrily above, mocking the sight underneath it. _

Harry awoke with a start as the train lurched.

"All right, Harry?" The twins asked. Harry shook his head and yawned.

"Are we there?"

"Nah, we still have a ways to go." Harry blinked as he looked around the compartment.

He was sitting next to the window, using Draco's shoulder as a pillow, who was sitting next to Ron. Across from Ron was Hermione, and next to her, Fred and George. It was a rather tight fit. All six of them were going to spend their Christmas holidays at Grimmauld Place. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were all going to Neville's for the holiday, and Ginny and Luna were going to Russia with Luna's father – the Lovegood family had a cottage up that way, they learned. And little Eleanor was going home for the holiday.

'Though why I insist on calling her "little Eleanor" when she's the same age as Luna and Ginny is completely beyond me…'

"So… do you think Sirius is actually going to be on the platform?" Hermione asked.

* * *

There was mist above the Forbidden Forest, far enough away from the castle grounds that Albus didn't send Hagrid to investigate its cause. Besides, Albus already knew what was causing it. For once the Daily Prophet wasn't making up falsities: Dementors really were in the forest. Albus wasn't sure what to make of it – had Tom sent them here or were they trying to extend a hand in friendship? They hadn't come near the castle or Hogsmeade, after all.

'Well, I'll have to deal with them if they come too close. Perhaps when term restarts I'll have a better grasp at what their intentions are. As the wards stand, they can't get onto the grounds, so that counts for something…' He had been furious when the Minister had told him that because of Sirius' escape from Azkaban that the soul-sucking creatures would be let lose on his students. He had to adjust the wards to allow it, but the second that school year had been over he put the wards back as they were supposed to be.

The Hogwarts wards were some of the most extensive in modern history. Apparition was impossible, portkeys could only be made by the Headmaster, tracking spells couldn't penetrate the wards, fighting triggered alarms in the Headmaster's office and their personal quarters, and Dark Creatures could not gain access. The Dark Creatures the wards dealt with were not the creatures that the Ministry defined as "Dark", but the creatures that truly were Dark. They were the things that caused man to fear the night – creatures that ate and didn't do much else; creatures that most of history had forgotten, eager to dismiss them as myths. Wild and untamable, creatures that ate soul, flesh, and bone alike. Creatures that delighted in pain and suffering, smiled as they ripped their food apart.

Albus shuddered. Dementors would be the least of his worries if the wards were breached and one of _those_ came to lunch.

"Headmaster sir, none of the house-elves has seen poltergeist Peeves." Dippy, a house-elf that had served Albus for most of its life, said before it popped out.

That was also worrying. Ms. Granger had been right; Peeves was nowhere to be found.

"Albus, this is a problem. Why, when I was a teacher here, Peeves was here!"

"Peeves has never been absent from Hogwarts, Albus! There is something gravely wrong!"

The portraits of the late Headmasters and Headmistress were all talking at once, clearly distressed. Albus sat down, sighing and removing his glasses.

"If he has never left, then how do we know if that's good or bad?" Gasps of outrage followed.

"Young man, if you are implying that we don't know what we're talking about –"

"Even you aren't so stupid as to –"

"Are you willing to compromise the childrens' safety –"

He sent off sparks from his wand to quiet them.

"What I meant was: there is no use in assuming the worse, when we don't even know all the details. If we –" He was cut off again.

"Peeves is a poltergeist. The first set of students here started his making, and every year since has just added to him, he is tied just to these students, by a very complicated spell that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor designed specifically for Hogwarts. Do you want to imagine what this school would be like if all the students had to keep their anger, jealously, resentment, and stress to themselves? There is a reason why Hogwarts' suicide rate is almost none existent, why bullying so seldom escalates to violence, and why this school can count its teenage pregnancy cases with two five-fingered hands."

Albus massaged his temples. That was true, something he never gave much thought to if he were honest with himself. But, what in the world could have happened to Peeves? Did he leave? Was he… eaten?

That thought caused his eyes to snap open – what if Peeves _was_ eaten? That would mean that the wards had been compromised. But, if that were the case, Albus would have known – he would have noticed. He was, after all, tied to the wards, given that he was Headmaster.

'But, you've been awfully busy lately… stressed. Perhaps you missed something…' A part of his mind whispered, sounding remarkably like a younger Gellert Grindelwald. He firmly pushed all thoughts of Gellert back where they belonged, in the dark recesses of his mind, locked away.

He needed a second opinion.

* * *

"You cannot be serious, Draco." Lucius sounded stern, and not even slightly bemused. Severus wisely decided to pretend that he had gone deaf, staying out of the current discussion between father and son.

"I am serious, father." A part of Draco cringed at calling Lucius by that title, as if the very idea was ridiculous.

"I've known Harry for almost five years now – "

"And you've only been together for a few months! And before that, you hated each other." Lucius was going to continue, but Draco started laughing.

"Oh for the love of… Father, are you really so blind that you thought I really hated him all these years? I've been _obsessed_ with him since the very first time I laid my eyes on him. You of all people should know that – just look at my behavior towards him! Looking back, it's _embarrassing_ how I acted around him; constantly wanting his attention on me and only me, throwing tantrums when I didn't get enough of it. If anything, this change in our relationship is something that was in the making since we first met. It makes sense!" Draco stopped, because if he went on he'd start talking about his memories and he didn't want to tell his father about those just yet. Not now.

"Draco, you cannot expect your father to shell out so much money on just a whim of yours. Sure, you like him now, but what about next year? You've only been together for a few months." Severus had apparently decided to stop pretending he was deaf. The accusation made Draco's blood boil.

'We've been together far longer than a few months! I've wanted him since the first time I saw him in that damn robe shop, just putting a different name on it. I don't even have all of my memories, but just from the ones I have, there is an ache for him that borders on painful. But I can't very well tell you both that, I just can't! There's too much I don't know…'

"Good to know you think so little of me, Severus. You act as if I'm asking father to buy me an engagement ring for Harry." Technically, what he was asking for wasn't that far from an engagement ring, but this particular tradition was so out of date that his father would undoubtedly never guess what the message behind the gift was. Harry, however, would know immediately.

"I've been studying the old traditions as of late. That is why I will not allow you to give Harry this particular gift – you may not be giving him an engagement ring, but you might as well be asking him to save a spot on his ring finger for you. You do not know that, of course, but I'm sure Harry does and I will not have you give that boy the wrong impression – "

'So much for father not understanding the message…'

"Actually, I do know that," He cut his father off, suddenly feeling awkward. This wasn't how he imagined this conversation going. "That's why I want to give him this, because I _do_ know what it means and I know he does, too." He could suddenly understand what Harry must have been feeling when Sirius Black had caught them together at Hogwarts.

His father stared at him as if he had never seen him. Severus was looking back and forth between them, no doubt lost as to what exactly was going on. Lucius must have noticed his lover's confusion, because the next thing he said was addressed not to Draco, but to Severus.

"Draco wants to give Harry a diamond bracelet. Diamond jewelry – rings, hairpieces, necklaces, bracelets, anything you can wear – used to carry the meaning of asking permission to eventually pursue marriage, especially in the wizarding world where our wedding bands are made primarily of sapphires as opposed to diamonds. It's a pre-engagement declaration meant only for the couple, thus no asking of blessings or permissions needed. Likewise, there are no engagement announcements." Severus looked at Draco with a strange blend of bemusement and incredulity.

"You cannot be serious." Severus whispered his voice tinted with disbelief. "You have been dating this boy for just a few short months and you think yourself in love with him? Is that what is prompting this madness? Draco, you are both only 15, you cannot possibly know if you want to spent the rest of your life together, or even just move your relationship further. You don't understand what you're doing – "

"No, I understand perfectly what I'm doing." Draco cut in coldly. "Do you remember when Harry was in a coma during the summer? Do you know what that was like for me? Every night I would be pulled into his own personal limbo to talk with him, that's why I was researching about limbo and bonds – I wanted to know why I was being pulled there. Harry said that I was there because I wanted to be, and at the time that made no sense to me. But, he was right. I did want to be there. And since he has been awake, I've made sure that every little thing I remembered from those "dreams" was also remembered by Harry, just to prove that it all wasn't just wishful thinking or something. It wasn't, I really was in his limbo. I understand perfectly what I'm doing. And knowing that will you still deny me the right to give Harry this gift?"

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_Sometimes, I think I am the only one out of the two of us with any sense at all, at least in regards to your safety. The wards on your room here at Hogwarts have been taken down; I'm sure some of your furniture has been cursed in some manner or another. Before you step foot in it come January, you are to have your godfather (Is he still your godfather or your other father now? I know your dad and he haven't gotten married, but does that really matter? Mom told me about your father and Snape, so don't worry about it being common knowledge or anything...) go over every nook and cranny or possibly just get you new furniture. I'm serious, Draco, I'm sure some of the Slytherins have set something horrible up. _

_Oh, and Witch Weekly is going on about how you have "found love" with Granger or some such nonsense. Seriously, you're lucky that most people are completely hopeless at observation, or they would have noticed that you keep shooting gooey, love looks at Potter. _

_Yes, I've noticed that. I don't think anyone else has. After all, I spend an inordinate amount of time watching you and your environs for any possible danger; it's only natural that I'd notice you sending him looks. I can't fault you for your taste, that's for sure. I mean, yum! And I'm not even gay! (Though, in defense of myself, Potter really does make a __fuckable__ hot girl. If only he really were one…oh well, more for you, no?) _

_I'm serious about your room, Draco. _

_Blaise _

Blaise sighed as he sent his letter off with an owl. He wondered if there was anything more he could do for Draco, they'd always been close. Practically best friends from the moment they meet, back when they were either five or six. The Malfoys and Zabinis had been families that had a good, long history.

As the Malfoy Knight family, the Zabinis were very accustomed to watching out for their Lords. It was a duty that was entrusted to them long ago and now generations later it seemed to be built into them. Blaise protected Draco because Draco was a Malfoy and thus that was his _duty_, his _right_.

He'd cut down anyone that dared to try and harm Draco, and they'd never even realize what had hit them.

* * *

Luna's dad was easy going and a bit eccentric. He didn't seem the type of person who took the Dark Mark, but Ginny had seen it peeking out from beneath his sleeve. At least that explained why Luna was allowed over at Headquarters over the summer – her father was a spy.

The door to the room Ginny was staying opened. Luna skipped in, a smile on her lips and clothed in a bathrobe.

"I'm going to take a bath, do you want to come?" Ginny stared at her for a moment.

"Errr… would your dad be okay with that?" Because Ginny was a hundred percent sure her mother wouldn't be.

"Of course, what's wrong with us taking a bath together?" Luna looked somewhat confused, but judging from the small blush in her checks she knew the implications.

"Well, I am somewhat cold…" Ginny said as she got up.

* * *

The paperwork was signed and filed. It was official: Sirius Black was the adopted father of Harry Potter. Harry still kept his last name and all of the Potter assets, but Sirius was his father now, legally. He ran his fingers over the document again.

He had a dad.

He looked up at Sirius, who had a huge smile that lit up his whole face. Remus was sitting next to him, looking the happiest Harry had ever seen him.

"So… who's who?" Harry asked quietly. The smile slipped a little from Sirius' face, and Remus blinked a few times. Harry bit his lip, hoping he didn't ruin the moment.

"Technically, I'm not really a part of your family. I'm not allowed – "

"I don't care if you're legally allowed to call yourself my parent or not. You're with Sirius, which makes you my family." Harry really didn't want to hear about how the Ministry was full of bigots. Remus didn't look offended at having been cut off.

"Well, obviously, Remus is the mother." Sirius said casually flinging an arm around said man. Remus laughed.

"What's this 'obviously'? You're the only one with legal rights; therefore you should be the mother!"

"But, you're the one that's fussy like a mother!"

"Your mother was fussy? Well, that's news to me." Remus got out as he was laughing. Harry laughed.

"Well, Sirius, your hair is longer then Remus', so I guess that makes you the mother." Harry teased.

"Hah! Even he's on my side!" They all laughed. Harry threw himself into Sirius' arms, holding on tightly.

"You love me?" Harry murmured into Sirius' robes.

"Yes, I love you." Sirius pressed a kiss to Harry's temple. Harry could feel himself trembling, trying to hold his tears inside.

"Even though I was raped?" Sirius' arms tightened around him, and he could feel Remus' fingers card through his hair.

"Yes."

"Even though I gave birth to a dead baby?" A sob broke out from his lips at that admission – he had never told anyone about her, his beautiful would-be daughter.

"Yes, though I think maybe you should talk to someone about that." Harry closed his eyes; his stillbirth might not have bothered him so much if he didn't know from past lives just what he was missing. Children were a sore point for him; after all, he was used to being a mother.

"I don't want to talk about that." Harry tightened his arms around Sirius. He wasn't an idiot; he knew that the second he tried talking to someone about his stillbirth he'd just collapse in on himself. At least now, maybe he'd be able to talk about it later. Maybe.

"Alright, you don't have to talk about it now, then." And they were very quiet for a while afterward.

* * *

Hermione thought that this year's Christmas was going rather well. The opening of presents had ended already, after Draco woke everybody up at some ungodly hour.

'Who knew Draco was so excitable?' Hermione thought with a smile.

Ron had given her a new book series, _Wizarding Fiction_, a series about the different ways muggles portray magic. He bought her the whole set, which included four books. The gift was actually from Ginny and Ron both, as they both helped to pay for it, but it was Ron's idea. The Twins got her a bag of quills that not only turned her hand different colors when she used them, but were also edible. Neville had sent a picture book of different plants that was interesting to look at and Eleanor sent a very nice card, sparkles and fireworks shooting off of it. Harry had gotten her earrings and a book on the use of jewelry in ancient rituals. Luna and Draco had conspired together to get her a scrapbook. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gotten her what she had taken to calling "the Weasley Christmas kit" – a Weasley sweater, chocolate of some kind, and a few extra quills.

The highlight of the morning was also the most understated. While most everyone was distracted by the Twins giving a demonstration of their newest invention – household firecrackers that chuckled with each spark of fire – Draco had given Harry a gift. A small gift - Hermione didn't see what it was- but when Harry opened it he looked very happy, happy enough to kiss Draco with no regard to the other people in the room. She really wondered what it was that Draco gave him.

"Hey, Hermione, have you seen Harry or Draco at all since present opening?" Ron stuck his head into the bedroom – since Ginny was staying with Luna, Hermione was all alone in the room.

"No, did you need them for something or are you just wondering where they got to?" Ron came to sit next to her on the floor. Scattered around her were different photos she had gathered through the last five years, there were quite a few.

"I was just wondering. Come to think of it, they're probably in Draco's room." He picked up a photo of Hermione's parents eating breakfast one morning.

"Did you get anything from your parents? I didn't see you open anything from them." Ron looked a bit worried, no doubt realizing that if she didn't get anything from them she might not want to talk about that.

"Oh, my parents are Jewish, I never get anything from them. I get everyone gifts because Christmas for the wizarding world is actually just the continuation of the Winter Solstice celebrations – you all just call it 'Christmas'." She picked up the Daily Prophet clipping from when the Weasleys won all that money and went to Egypt to put in her scrapbook, under a caption that read "Ron's Family".

"Why does it matter that they're Jewish?" Ron asked, genuinely confused.

"Christmas, in the Muggle world, is a Christian holiday celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. And, since my parents are Jewish, they don't celebrate it."

"Oh." Ron blinked, digesting the information. Hermione picked up a family portrait her parents had taken over the summer, just a few days after the end of fourth year. What she told Ron wasn't the complete truth. Her parents had bought and wrapped gifts to give her for as long as she could remember – but when she got her Hogwarts letter that all changed. Hermione liked to tell herself that it wasn't her Hogwarts letter that caused it; no, it was her age. Her parents were always going to stop celebrating Christmas when she turned eleven, because by then she might not have been teased for not celebrating it. It had nothing to do with her getting her letter.

A few tears dropped onto the picture she was holding.

'Oh, really, Hermione! You're being silly!'

"What's wrong, why are you crying?" Ron asked with a note of urgency in his voice. He pulled her down so she was resting against his chest.

"No-nothing's w-wrong." She sobbed out. She told herself that she was being silly, that there was nothing to be upset about, but the tears didn't stop.

'Stop crying! Honestly, crying over presents, how old are you?!' She berated herself silently. Ron ran his fingers through her hair, no doubt wondering what was wrong with her. And she was glad he didn't ask, because she wasn't sure what she would have said.

* * *

There was nothing left.

The house was in shambles, the street ripped apart and fire seemed to be everywhere. The air smelt of burnt flesh, charred wood, and singed hair. The muggles had gotten there first; they were claiming that a gas pipe had exploded. It wasn't completely untrue – a gas pipe did indeed explode, but the Dark Mark above the ruined street spoke another story.

The Ministry -but more specifically, the Unspeakables- had already modified the memories of the muggles so they hadn't remembered seeing the Dark Mark, and all that was left was for the Order to get rid of the damn thing. Molly Weasley was already working alongside a few other Aurors to unravel it, with the rest of the Order trying their best to clean everything up. It was a lucky thing that the fire had already burnt all the bodies and surrounding structures to ash; it meant there was less for the Order to do.

Albus stared down at a pile of ash, an identification spell lingered around it, and a little card placed near it said: 'Marietta Edgecombe, Hogwarts Student – Ravenclaw, 16 years of age'. A few feet away there was another pile, the little card reading 'Carlotta Edgecombe, 8 years of age'. Two children dead.

This was the hardest part of fighting a war, seeing children sacrificed to such hate and violence.

"Albus, there isn't much else left to do. The whole family was wiped out, so there isn't anyone we need to inform of this… all that's left is for the Ministry to write death certificates and record the event itself." Severus spoke quietly and matter-of-factly.

"Did you see anything from Miss Edgecombe to suggest that she was frightened for her life, Severus?"

"No. I only saw her in class and at meal times though, so it's hard to say if she or her family had been threatened…"He trailed off. Albus nodded – he knew that. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to ask such a thing.

The full moon above them seemed out of place. With two innocent children dead, the moon should be hidden behind rain or clouds, not merrily shedding light down on the place. But, alas, this wasn't a novel or fairy tale. This was real life, and in real life horrible things happened at any time of day and in any weather.

"Albus, the Dark Mark has been removed. There really isn't anything more we can do." Molly Weasley said, leaning on her husband. Albus nodded.

'There isn't anything more we can do… Yes, I'm rather starting to feel that way about a lot of things.'

* * *

"And this is the Neva River, where Grigori Rasputin was dumped after being poisoned, shot, beaten, and castrated. The muggles believe that he drowned, and their memories were modified to support that theory as well, but he was admitted to St. Pavel after some passing Healers stumbled upon him. Oh, St. Pavel is basically Russia's St. Mungo's. No one really knows what happened after he was released, perhaps a krokelbar got him?" Luna prattled on as she led Ginny by the hand over a bridge. Luna's father had let them go sight-seeing today, so here they were, wandering the countryside. Luckily, passing through customs also had the added bonus of negating the "no magic during holidays" law in Britain.

In Russia, the law was "don't do magic in obvious places." Here it was more about keeping magic to yourself then keeping it away from the muggles. Of course, that probably had a lot more to do with the fact that the muggle/wizard ratio in Russia was almost 50/50 then anything, but it was nice. It was also the reason the two girls were wandering by themselves, with only a portkey each for safety.

The two girls came to what was obviously a warehouse once upon a time, most likely used for storage back in the day. An old gate archway marked its entrance and with a sign beside it. To Ginny, it looked like nothing more then strange symbols. Luna pulled her to it, looking down at the sign as if it held the secrets to the universe. Then, she turned to Ginny, smiled and pulled her through the archway.

And then, they were somewhere else.

Shops and cafes littered the yellow cobblestone road they were on. All the signs were in Russian, but it was obvious that it was a magic alley they had stepped into. People were milling about, merchants were shouting in Russian – no doubt trying to sell something or attract attention to their shops. Some older women were sitting around a cafe table chatting away in Russian. A group of teenagers were crowded around a shop window, no doubt discussing whatever it was they were looking at. Luna pulled her down the street at a sedate pace, the two girls stopping to look in windows or look at things on display outside.

An hour later, they were still looking around. The alley had twisted several times and seemed to be heading downhill. The end of the alley didn't seem to be in near sight.

"Oh, Radies!" An elderly voice croaked out. The mostly correct English made Ginny turn sharply.

It was an old woman. She looked like she had often wore a strict frown in her youth, so much that the expression had left lines behind. Her gray hair hung about her, strands of it falling out of a bun. She was wearing very out-of-date robes that looked as if they had seen better days. In front of her was a table with various knick knacks arranged on top of it.

"Come! See." She pointed at her table.

'English is obviously not a language she actually studied…'Ginny thought. She was amused by the woman's attempts.

Her table was loaded with antiques: mirrors, sashes, skirts, corsets, hairpieces, gloves, ribbons, jewelry, paintings, old childrens' toys, silverware, and even some old books. It reminded her of her father's shed – tons of junk that meant nothing to her, but obviously were important to her father. The jewelry was the only things that didn't look like they belonged in her great-grandmother's time period.

"Pretty, yes?" The old woman had obviously caught onto Ginny's interest in the sparkling jewelry. Ginny smiled and nodded, wishing she could afford one of the rings, or perhaps a necklace.

'Yeah, good luck with that. These are obviously old and most likely expensive.' Ginny was disappointed, but there was no harm in looking. Luna picked up a ruby embedded hairpiece – it looked like a red Chinese dragon. It seemed like something her brother Charlie would give to a girlfriend, if he had one. Its wings were the clips, while its body was the decoration. The body was embedded with either imitation rubies or the real things, she couldn't tell. It looked beautiful, but the red would no doubt clash horribly with her hair. She wondered if it would look good in Luna's hair.

"This, see." Ginny's attention was brought back to the woman who was holding a ring out for Ginny to look at. It was gold and slender with a black gem of some sort held in the center. It was beautiful, but there was no way in blazing blue hell that Ginny would have been able to afford it.

"Pretty, yes?"

"Yes, pretty. But, I don't think I can afford it." Ginny very much doubted that this woman could even understand what she was saying.

"Was granddaughters', makes me sad. Any amount." Ginny blinked in shock.

'What? Any amount?!' Her shock changed into suspicion. 'It might be cursed. Shit, play it cool, play it cool.'

"No, I couldn't." Luna shot her a sharp look. Apparently she wasn't that great at "playing it cool".

'Honestly, you're a Blood Traitor and a friend of Harry Potter's! What, did you think the Dark Lord would let country borders stop him from killing or kidnapping people?! The mere fact that this woman can speak English is in itself suspicious – most foreigners don't bother with languages outside of their own! Stupid, stupid!'

"Luna, we're expected home, aren't we?" Luna made a noncommittal sound while slipping her hand into Ginny's easily, as if she wasn't giving Ginny an easier way to get them both to safety. An instant later, they were whisked away to safety.

Later on, when Ginny was getting ready for bed, she noticed the same ring the old woman had tried to sell her earlier.

"Now where in the world did that come from?" She asked herself. She picked it up, trying to remember why it looked familiar. When she could think of nothing, she mentally dismissed it and went to bed.

* * *

Fred yawned. He was all for learning new and cool bits of magic, but these lectures were going to kill him. Sure, the content was very interesting and if he went without them he could inadvertently end up killing himself or someone else, but it didn't make listening to them any better.

"Okay, this first half of the lesson is going to be dinner, because I'm starving and it's eleven in the evening. So, while we eat pizza, you're going to listen to me talk about magical bonds. There are two types of magical bonds, and they're named very originally – natural and artificial."

'At least he's attempting to lesson the boredom by jokes, even if they're cheesy.'

"The bonds formed during today's marriage ceremonies are artificial bonds, the bonds between adopted children and parents are artificial bonds. The bonds between parents and children, and magical creatures and their mates are natural. The bonds between friends and lovers can be both; any idea why that is?"

"Destiny and all that rot." Seamus said around a piece of pizza.

"Yes, basically." Harry grabbed a slice of pizza. "Some of us were _meant_ to find each other. Some of us that fall in love are destined for one special person. These bonds are natural. That isn't to say that just because two people are bonded naturally that they'll get together. Maybe they were born during different time periods, maybe they were born on two different contents, or maybe their blood relations were too close. All this means is that the bonds between them would be natural as opposed to artificial. Natural bonds aren't just limited to bonds of love either – bonds of friendship, duty, and hate can also be natural bonds. Natural bonds aren't always good things; there are some bonds that can lead to some pretty tragic ends. One that comes to mind is the Somni de Malson. That is a bond of love that brings to the surface passionate, all consuming, mind numbing, and obsessive love. There are lots of figures in literature and history that had this bond: Romeo and Juliet; Lady Guinevere, Lancelot, and King Arthur; etc. We all know how those romances turned out. The Dumbledore family recently just had two people born with this bond – which is very rare. Ariana and Albus – Ariana has been dead for quite some time but her older brother Albus is obviously still alive."

"Oh, eww! Insest!" Ron looked rather disgusted. Harry blinked before laughing.

"Oh, no, I didn't specify that well enough, sorry. They weren't connected to each other. Ariana was connected to someone who died shortly after she was born. Albus was connected to a young man named Gellert, Gellert Grindelwald to be specific."

"No way!" Dean dropped a piece of pizza out of his mouth.

"That's disgusting, Dean!" Eleanor smacked his shoulder.

"Yep, it's true. Shocking and rather tragic. None of you are to mention this outside this room, for the simple fact that it could ruin Albus Dumbledore. It would be very cruel to remind him of his lost love."

"Lost? For heaven's sake, the guy's not dead – he's in prison. Or so we've been told, if Albus had a thing for him…" Seamus trailed off meaningfully. The kid had a good point.

"Albus had to make a choice. He choose to end the Dark Lord's reign, even at great personal cost to himself. It probably hurt a lot more then any of you can imagine. Do not bring it up again." Fred was always rather amazed at how Harry could make his voice sound hard and cold.

"Now, with dinner over we're going to move onto dueling practice."

'Great, we move form boring lecture to muscle killing training. I'm seeing what he meant by us wanting him dead some weeks.'

* * *

The cathedral was burning, along with the immediate buildings around it. The smell of sulfur and burned flesh filled the air. Adding to the horrendous smell was decay from the few Inferi that still remained.

The fire had started from a stray curse that was intended for the damned things, but the aim was off and whoosh! The cathedral burned, the ancient wards around it feeding the inferno. Then the surrounding buildings had started to catch, and now it looked like the whole of Bordeaux was on fire. It wasn't of course, the French Ministry had created a water bubble around the huge inferno to contain the damage, the muggles inside were already dead or close to it. The muggles outside the burning section were under the impression that their government was handling the crisis.

Death Eaters, Order members, and French Aurors were furiously fighting while trying to put the fire out. It wasn't an easy task.

Arthur leaped to the side as a curse flew past him. Between the fighting and the heat from the fire he was sweating buckets; the flame-freezing charm could only do so much and had to be renewed. It was exhausting, but adrenaline did wonders for magical abilities, just as it did wonders for physical strength.

There was no place to hide here; it was duel or die. There was no stealth to be found, not when the majority of the surroundings were on fire. It was as much a disadvantage as it was an advantage; there was no hiding, for anyone or their opponent. Arthur cast a leg locking charm on the Death Eater he was dueling with and they fell sideways into a burning bush. Their screams made him shudder, but he had no time to feel remorse as another opponent came at him.

This one was obviously a female, a young girl just out of schooling if he wasn't mistaken. As he volleyed spells back and fourth he couldn't help but feel as if he recognized her voice. He wasn't quick enough to dodge the last spell and screamed in pain as the skin from his arm peeled off. He shot a medical spell back, essentially an adrenaline charm. It was supposed to be used to keep patients alive when their heart was giving out, but if used on a perfectly healthy person it could cause the muscle to either explode or cause a heart attack.

The Death Eater gave a gasped breath, lurched forward just enough to cause her mask to fall off her face, and then fell over, quite dead. His shock at the face overcame the pain he was in – he knew this child, had her in his home frequently over the years: Penelope Clearwater, Percy's girlfriend.

As if in a fog, he placed a numbing spell on his arm. It might get infected, but he was in the middle of a battle; he couldn't afford to take the time to properly heal it.

"PENNY!" And all thought processes halted. He knew that voice, knew it very well.

'No. No, this isn't happening.' A Death Eater ran for him, cutting people down left and right in his hast to get to his fallen comrade. The mask was flung away as the Death Eater fell to his knees to gather the body in his arms. And Arthur did nothing, just stood there staring as if they were alone. As if the city around them wasn't burning; as if they weren't in the middle of a battle; as if the rest of the world halted to give them a moment alone.

'This isn't happening.' The distraught Death Eater raised tear streaked and rage filled eyes to him.

"I'll kill you." The young man rose, wand outstretched a manic, crazy glint in his eyes. "You'll pay for hurting her, and when she wakes up we'll have so much fun with you."

'This isn't happening.'

The casting of the killing curse spurred Arthur's body, lunging to the side on autopilot. His body moved, his lips cast shields and hexes, but his mind was elsewhere.

"_Dad, Dad! Look what I did!" His son held up a picture of the Burrow, and in front of it was himself, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Molly. Molly looked so much wider then any of them because she was currently pregnant and Percy felt it prudent to draw that fact in. _

'This isn't happening.'

"_Percy, you have to be really patient with Fred and George, they're your little brothers." He said sternly. His son pouted. _

'This isn't happening.'

"_Dad! Mom! Look, an owl, an owl just for ME!" He looked at his son in amusement. _

"_Well, go on, open it!" Molly urged. Percy's smile lit up his whole face. He broke the Hogwarts seal and started to read his acceptance letter out loud, pride and excitement filling his voice. _

He dodged the Cruciatus Curse.

_He was so proud of his son – a Prefect! What an honor. He knew Perce must be ecstatic. Fred and George were giving him a hard time, as usual, but that wasn't anything too new. He mentally calculated this month's wages…he should have enough to squeeze in a congratulatory gift for him, maybe the new shoes Percy had been taken with last month. _

He summoned a mirror and threw it in front of him. He watched in stunned horror as instead of it shattering into a million pieces, the spell rebounded off of it and hit the Death Eater square in the chest.

'This isn't happening.'

"_Percy, you've let your own ambitions blind you to reason! This isn't about your job, or even mine, it's about the families safety! Fudge is just using you and if Death Eaters - "_

"_Oh, yes, Death Eaters! The Dark Lord is GONE, father! Potter's full of crap, he's just an attention-seeking brat! Can't you see that he's lying to you?!"_

The Death Eater was lifted off his feet by the force of the impact.

"_Percy, if you cannot see how much danger you could be putting your family into, I cannot allow you back here. Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Harry are still all in school; their safety is the priority, as they are still children." _

"_Oh, of course, Fred and George," Percy sneered. "You're just jealous that I have a job that can actually give me a steady income! I'M not going to become just some idiot messing around with useless muggle objects. I'LL actually have a purpose in life!"_

"_If that's what you think, then fine. But I have to ask you to leave, Percy. I will not let your actions endanger the rest of the family." It killed him to say these words. But, the rest of the family could not be put in danger just because Percy was too young to understand that this wasn't a game or an exercise. He'd come around, eventually. _

Percy fell to the ground dead.

'This isn't happening.'

* * *

Author's Notes: I'm SO sorry that this update was so long and all you got was 17 pages. I'm sorry, but I got Writer's Fatigue. It's when you have the ideas to write, but no drive to write them. So, onto some actual notes on the chapter…

_Wedding Bands_. Traditionally, wedding bands are made with diamonds because diamonds carry the meaning "forever" or "everlasting". In the Wizarding World, people don't use diamonds because they know that marriages aren't forever. They last until you die, then in another life a married couple might be siblings or might not even know each other. Thus, they don't use diamonds. So, why use diamonds for pre-engagements? Because diamonds also carry the meaning of money, giving diamond jewelry carries the meaning of "you're just as important and precious to me as this diamond". It's a sentimental thing to be sure, but it also had practical uses: poorer families often use the pre-engagement jewelry to pay for the wedding costs.

_Hermione's Parents_. They aren't horrible, prejudiced people. What they're doing to Hermione is completely subconscious. They've convinced themselves that they aren't treating her any different because of her magic, but because of her age. Subconsciously, they know that Hermione will one day have to choose between the worlds, and because they love her, they don't want her to feel pressured in any way. So, they're trying to make the break easier on everyone by emotionally distancing themselves. That way, when she abandons the muggle world, it won't hurt everyone as much as it would if they were all still so close. They're not being deliberately cruel, they're being stupid. And on that note, why did I make them Jewish? Because there's no proof in canon that they're not. People celebrate Christmas even if they aren't Catholic/Christian. They just exchange gifts and call it good.

_Ron not understanding religion_. This isn't because Ron's stupid, it's because religion is different between the Wizarding World and the muggle one. In the Wizarding World, the New Testament is strictly muggle. Thus, the religion of "the One God" isn't split up. As we've already seen Thantos and Hades, the Greek Gods exist.

_Fun Triva_: The old hag seen in Russia used every word of English she knew talking to Ginny.


	15. Chapter 15

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

* * *

"Oh, yeah, because let me tell you how much sense that makes!" Eleanor retorted to Seamus. The older boy rolled his eyes, and waved his arms about as he defended his idea. Dean walked on his other side, a smile playing on his lips.

Ginny, Luna, and Neville were a few shops behind Eleanor, Seamus, and Dean, chatting happily back and forth. Luna was staring dreamily about them, holding Ginny's hand while Ginny and Neville were enthusiastically discussing something out of the magazine in Neville's hand. The six were having a grand time, all happy to be back in each other's company after the break.

They were heading back to Hogwarts when the front of a store exploded outwards. Seconds later a body was thrown out onto the street, blood dribbling out of the mouth. A man in black robes calmly walked out of what remained of the doorframe, pulling on a white mask almost absentmindedly. He looked up then, as if someone had called his name, and casually flung a curse at the group of people just standing there frozen in shock and fear.

It was chaos immediately – it seemed as if Death Eaters poured into Hogsmeade out of thin air and they all immediately started firing off curses. A few brave shoppers fought back, but the vast majority fled for their lives. Ginny and Luna dodged and ran through the crowd with ease due to their size and speed.

"We have to get the third and fourth years out of danger!" Luna said to Ginny, hoping the other girl heard her over the noise. Ginny nodded, grabbing the hands of two Ravenclaw third years that were huddled close by.

"I'm taking them to Zonko's! Cover me!" Ginny said fiercely, dashing forward while shoving the students in front of her. Luna ran after her, wand out. Just as Ginny wrenched the door to Zonko's open, a spell flew toward them. Luna shoved one of the third years closer to Ginny and got hit in the shoulder for her trouble. She whirled around, wand out, and fired a bone breaking spell at the nearest Death Eater. Their legs folded up underneath them, the knees bending the wrong way.

Luna could sense Seamus and Dean's mental signals coming closer, so she lingered by the door hoping to see them. In seconds, the two boys came into sight with five Gryffindor students and three younger children – possibly lived in Hogsmeade.

"Dean! Over here!" Luna said loud enough to get his attention, hoping that it wouldn't attract someone else's. Luna and Dean herded the children into the store with minimal fuss while Seamus tried to make sure they hadn't caught been caught in a Death Eater's sight. Luckily, the Death Eaters were preoccupied with some brave Hogsmeade adults and the destruction of the town.

"Does your shoulder hurt, young lady?" The Zonko's shop keeper asked Luna as she and Dean came inside. Luna titled her head as she answered.

"Not as much as I thought a broken bone would hurt." She pointed her wand at her shoulder and tapped it. Pain flared as it snapped back in place. She swayed briefly as her vision grayed. Dean urged her to sit.

"Stay here. Dean, come with me. Luna, try to contact Harry." Ginny commanded before leaving the shop. Luna tried to conjure offense to being ordered around, but couldn't mange it. Her shoulder hurt more than it did a few minutes ago. She vaguely wondered if perhaps she didn't cast her spell correctly.

She took a few deep breathes, trying to think through the pain. She didn't have her school bag with her, meaning she didn't have her parchment to get a message out. She looked around the shop, noticing the cowering children and adults throughout.

'A Crumple-Horned Snorkack would never just huddle in a corner with their babies. They'd defend them to the death, leaving them in a safe place. But humans don't do that. Odd.' Luna thought as she forced herself to her feet.

'So, humans cower with children when they know they can do nothing. You can do something, you can get Harry. Think, Luna. How can you get Harry?' She had no way of getting word to Harry, but maybe she could attract attention from Hogwarts.

'C'mon Luna, you're in a joke shop; there's got to be something useful here.'

* * *

Ginny dodged a killing curse as she heard Neville enchant a plant to do his will. A bush nearby roared to life, grabbing the Death Eater that just tried to kill her and flung them into a nearby building. They didn't get up.

Ginny lunged behind the bush as Neville directed it to shield a father and his son. The spell that was heading toward them hit the bush and leaves and wood splintered as the father shot a thankful look at Neville.

"No offense, but that bush isn't exactly inconspicuous!" Ginny said to Neville as the bush fell to the ground unmoving.

"I noticed!" He retorted back as he dragged her away, closer to Honeydukes. While they were running they fired off shields to keep from getting hit. Even so, eventually they had to stop running to turn and fight.

"Why, if it isn't little Neville!" A shrill voice sounded. A giggle followed that statement as a Death Eater danced into their sights. She didn't wear a mask and had long black hair. She held a vague resemblance to Sirius, but her eyes held a madness that Ginny had never seen in Sirius' eyes.

"You did grow up well, didn't you? My, my, you look strikingly like little, cute Alice!" the woman giggled again, loud, as if what she said was somehow hilarious. "I wonder if you and she sound alike?" And that was all the warning they got before the woman shot the Cruciatus Curse at Neville.

He fell, screaming and writhing on the ground as the woman laughed. Ginny ran forward and bodily tackled the woman to the ground, something she clearly wasn't expecting, but reacted to quickly. The woman's fist collided with Ginny's face as she lost grip of her wand. Ginny drove her own fist down into the woman's pretty face, hearing a crack as her fist connected with the woman's nose. Ginny lunged off the woman, diving for the woman's wand. She snatched it up just as she heard Neville's voice from behind her.

"_Ex Somes!"_ The woman managed to dodge the entrail-expelling curse before apperating away. Neville looked demonic, his face set in an unnatural expression of sheer hate.

"I don't think my brilliant plan will work a second time." Ginny said, hoping that her voice would cause Neville's expression to change. All it did was cause him to turn to her, clearly furious with her.

"What the hell were you thinking? Rushing her like that! You could have been killed!" He shouted at her.

"I wasn't, ok? I just reacted! You were screaming and I had to do something!" She was going to continue when she was hit from behind by something that sent her flying over Neville's head and into Honeyduke's front window.

Her last thought before she lost consciousness was 'Harry's going to kick my ass for arguing in the middle of a battle.'

The gold and black ring on her finger pulsed once, and then she was gone.

* * *

Neville, furious that he had let himself get so distracted, flung the entrail-expelling curse at the Death Eater that cursed Ginny. It hit and Neville watched in a strange sort of detached way as the person seemed to explode; bits of organs and blood going everywhere in a burst.

'That should have been Bellatrix Lestrange.' Neville thought as he just stood there as the fighting went on around him. Hate and rage was filling him up, clouding his thoughts. He wanted to kill, he wanted her dead. No, he wanted her, the woman who took his parents from him in the worst way imaginable, to _writhe_. She would pay, she would scream, and he would laugh.

She would writhe and scream and hurt and hurt and hurt and he would be glad; be glad, be joyously untouchable. He would curse her, curse her and hate her and rip her apart and she would _scream_…

A body slammed into him, forcing him to the ground. Neville was brought out of his hate-filled haze as his arm raised, a curse on his lips.

"Nev, it's me, it's Dean!" And Neville paused, taking in the face of one of his best friends. As Dean tugged Neville to his feet, he felt sick to his stomach, like he was about to vomit. He had killed someone, and thought about torturing someone, thought about enjoying it.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Neville heard his voice as if he was underwater, filtered and distorted.

"Later, Neville, be sick later! We still have to defend Hogsmeade!" Dean's voice, loud and urgent, rang like a bell in Neville's head. Neville nodded, sharply, pushing all other thoughts to the back of his mind. He had to concentrate on this right now, he could worry about the other things later. Right now, he had a job to do.

"Ginny got hit; I think she crashed through Honeyduke's front window. Where are Luna, Eleanor, and Seamus?"

"I don't know where Eleanor is, we got separated. Luna's holed up in Zonko's, trying to get word back to the castle and Seamus is fighting over by Dervish and Banges. I can't concentrate to try and find Eleanor's mind in all the ruckus." Their brief moment of peace was quickly ruined as some Death Eaters noticed them and fired off curses.

Dean flung a shield up, while Neville threw an enchantment towards the trees, hoping that he could manage to enchant them. He hadn't been able to enchant anything bigger than a bush, but maybe with the added adrenaline…

No, it hadn't work. The spell hit the bark and the tree did nothing. Dean swore and cast the shield charm again. It was holding up, but just barely. Dean's magic was better for attacking than defending.

"Hold it for just a little longer; I'm going to try something." Neville whispered to Dean, stepping a few paces back to give himself room.

Neville took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Harry had taught him the theory behind this; he knew how to do it, and he just needed to power to achieve it. He flung out a string of fire, reaching with his magic to grab it and hold it in place. With his eyes closed, he could feel the heat from the flames and smell the sulfur. He concentrated, folding his magic around the flames. He needed a weapon he could control, something flexible, able to twist around Dean's shield and strike the Death Eaters. He needed a weapon.

"Neville, I can't hold this forever!"

The flames died. Neville cursed before flinging out another string, he _knew _how to do this, it was just a matter of doing it. He reached with his magic again, willing the flames to bend to him and hold.

They vanished, _again_.

* * *

Eleanor struggled against Warren as he dragged her away from High Street, from the fighting and burning.

"You'll be perfect for my Lord's wishes, dear Eleanor, especially since Potter seems to have a soft spot for you. You should be grateful and humbled, considering this whole affair was designed specifically for you."

Eleanor didn't understand what Warren meant, but she wasn't in any hurry to find out. She kicked her foot back, hard, and dashed away when Warren loosened his grip on her. She had half a mind to turn back and fight him, but her instincts were telling her to run so she listened. They had never failed her before.

Warren cursed behind her, but she concentrated on getting back to High Street. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were the farthest from her, and Luna was with a bunch of other people – perhaps holed up in a store? Eleanor couldn't sense Ginny, which worried her for an unfathomable reason.

"_Stupefy!_" Eleanor cursed as the spell flew centimeters over her shoulder.

'Thank Merlin Warren can't aim!'

"_Protego_!" Eleanor pointed the wand at herself as she ran, sighing in relief when a bubble-like shield appeared around her.

She ran faster, willing all her energy to her legs to get her back to High Street – it would be easy to lose Warren in the crowd of fighting and flames. Once his attention was divided on more than just her she could disillusion herself and get to Luna or the boys.

She had just gotten to High Street when Zonko's exploded. On the one hand, _a building just exploded,_ but on the other it was a wonderful distraction. Everyone's gaze was directed at said distraction, so she cast the disillusion spell over herself and ran towards Neville, Dean, and Seamus.

They were all together, fighting against six Death Eaters. She aimed her wand at the back of one and shot off a blasting curse. The Death Eater's spine exploded backwards and they fell to the ground. Eleanor hoped, for their sake, that they were dead. She firmly refused to think on the fact that she had just murdered someone and threw herself into the fight, firing spells off. Since she was disillusioned, it was hard for the remaining five Death Eaters to fight back.

"Eleanor!" Warren's voice sounded from behind her, causing her to sharply turn. A spell slammed into her side and pain seared as her arm was shattered. Her wand flew out of her grip as she staggered sideways, crying out in pain. She threw herself towards Seamus as her disillusion spell faded, wondering if Warren had hit her out of sheer luck or if he had somehow figured out where she was. She wasn't sure which one would've been better.

Seamus fired off something at Warren, she couldn't hear what it was over the sudden ringing in her head as the pain and adrenaline warred for control over her senses. The world tilted abruptly and she suddenly found herself on the ground, Dean and Seamus hovering over her protectively.

She felt like she was in a kaleidoscope, colors blurred together and sound tumbled and changed in her head. Nothing stayed in front of her and nothing made sense. Dean was saying something to her, or at least she thought it was Dean – it was hard to tell from his Picasso like appearance.

"Pretty lights…" She reached for the light shining from his eyes as she spoke, but her hand closed on nothing as the Picasso-Dean crumpled to the ground. Green shards of light ripped out of him and she heard what might have been Seamus' voice rumble something.

The Gryffindor emblem came into sight before the green shards of light ripped it away, and someone was screaming as arms picked her up and held her close. She briefly thought she saw Draco, but he looked distorted and too colorful.

* * *

Lucius wrapped his arms around Severus' shoulders, almost purring in pleasure. He hadn't been able to see Severus for months and had even resorted to sleeping with that doll Harry had gifted to him before the school year started.

'I'm getting soft if I'm admitting to sleeping with a doll, even if only to myself.'

Severus sighed as he leaned back into the taller man.

"I have work to do." Severus said. "I'm sure you do as well, Lucius."

Lucius kissed Severus cheek.

"You should be doing your work and I should be doing mine."

Lucius turned Severus' head to give him a proper kiss. He trailed his fingers down to curl in the collar of Severus' shirt. 'Odd to think this was once a really romantic gesture. I can see why it went out of style.'

A flash of red-orange flames caused them to jerk apart. Fawkes appeared in a blaze, parchment held carefully in his beak. Severus took the message from the phoenix and quickly read over it as flames surrounded Fawkes once more.

"Shit, there's an attack going on in Hogsmeade right now!" And both of them were moving quickly through the school, wands out and alert.

"How many?" Lucius asked as they made it to the ground floor.

"Albus didn't say. He only found out about it because Zonko's exploded." They were halfway to the gates, where they would be able to apparate the remaining distance. From where they were they could see smoke rising from the little town.

Fear gripped Lucius' heart in a vice-grip. He did not know where his son was and he hoped with everything in him that Draco wasn't in Hogsmeade. He hoped he was hidden away somewhere in the castle with Harry; hoped he was anywhere but in Hogsmeade. He didn't want to have anything in common with the Weasleys. A shudder passed through him as he thought of them and their dead son. He wouldn't allow that to be him, couldn't allow that to be him. The second he was past the wards, he apparated.

Blood and magic met him. A few yards in front of him, a young girl in Hogwarts robes – younger than Draco – sat on the ground with an alarming amount of blood coming from her arm. Three young boys were in front of her, one trying to talk to her, but they were outnumbered – the three of them against five Death Eaters.

The world slowed down: his legs moved him forward as two killing curses from different sides flew towards the girl, one boy lunged in front of her as the other boy casually stepped forward to intercept the other one. The remaining boy set one of the Death Eaters on fire as the girl started to scream. Lucius swung the girl up into his arms, firing off two curses as he assessed where all the blood was coming from.

Her shoulder blade was sticking out of her skin, and a fountain of blood was flowing freely from the grotesque wound. To try and bind it now might cause more damage than good; after all, Lucius wasn't a medi-wizard by any stretch. He rolled out of the way as a whip of flames set the remaining Death Eaters in front of him on fire. The remaining boy who had protected the girl in Lucius' arms looked demonic as he raced into the fighting, fire coiled around him.

"Lucius, give her to me before she bleeds to death." Minerva said as she reached for the girl. He easily handed her off, noticing that behind him Poppy had already set up a temporary area guarded by a few Order members, and that the battle seemed to be moving further up High Street.

The Dark Mark shot up into the sky, causing Lucius to move quickly, sprinting up the street as the fighting abruptly ended as Death Eaters everywhere appearated away. He skid to a stop next to his cousin, Sirius.

"Shit, we missed all the fun." Sirius pouted and Lucius flinched away at the striking resemblance he had to Bellatrix – both in appearance and attitude.

"Cousin, you disturb me." Lucius said as he assessed the damage done to Hogsmeade – a few stores were burnt to the ground, a few more still on fire, people were helping the wounded, and there were corpses littering the street. He didn't see his son among the unmoving children which calmed his heart.

Albus stood outside the Hogs Head. The bar was in good shape and most likely he was coaxing the hidden people out, telling them the danger had passed. He caught sight of Severus, staring down at the street. Fear gripped his heart as he moved quickly to his lover's side.

It was a child, but it wasn't his child, and for that Lucius felt a sick sense of relief. The child couldn't be more than 13, so this must have been their first Hogsmeade trip.

"I wonder how many children will have to be sacrificed to this madman before the end." Severus whispered, mostly to himself. "Have you seen Draco?"

"No."

"Good. Our son will not be lost to this." It always made Lucius feel better to hear Severus refer to Draco as theirs. Lucius touched Severus' arm gently.

"Poppy might need your assistance."

Severus nodded, turning sharply to go offer his aide. Lucius spoke an identification charm over the dead body, watching as the child's name shimmered above his crown. He reached into his pocket for a spare quill and something that could be transfigured into a card to write the child's name on. He wrote the boy's name in flowing script, being careful to write it slowly and legibly. He placed the card between the boy's lips to show respect for the dead and moved on.

After identifying four more bodies, he found himself beside Sirius again. The other man was talking to the boy that Lucius had seen walk off with flames coiled tightly around him. Lucius had forgotten about him until then, but looking at him properly it was easy to tell the boy was Neville Longbottom.

"I saw her go in here though! She was blasted through the window. Oh Merlin, where is she? She- she…" Longbottom coked on his words, tears flowing down his face. "It was my-my fault! She – we were arguing… oh no, where is she?" Sirius pulled the boy closer as he descended into hysteria. Lucius wondered if Sirius was always this good at soothing hysterical children or if it came from being Harry's guardian. As creepy as the child was, he probably pulled off hysterical very well.

Sirius looked up at Lucius, mouthing 'Ginny Weasley is missing' to Lucius above the boy's head.

'Of course it would be another Weasley. How many children do they have to lose?'

* * *

She couldn't see.

"_I wasn't, ok? I just reacted! You were screaming and I had to do something!"_

Roots were under her knees and it was so dark she couldn't even make out the ground.

_She was airborne suddenly, and then glass was shattering and biting into her._

'That's right… Hogsmeade was under attack…'

"Ginny, are you alright?" Luna's hand came into her vision and relief flowed through Ginny. 'Thank Merlin, Luna is alright.' Ginny thought as she grabbed Luna's hand and pulled herself up. Luna's hand was cold.

"Yes, what about Hogsmeade?"

"I'm so glad you're alright." Luna said, letting go of her hand to hug her.

"I'm glad you're alright too." Ginny rested her forehead against Luna's, closing her eyes. 'I wonder if Neville is okay. Did help come?'

"We should prob-" Ginny was cut off as Luna pressed their lips together softly. 'Why is she so cold? How long was I out for?'

Luna stepped forward, causing Ginny to stumble back and trip on a tree root. Her back hit the ground and Luna's elbow collided with her stomach, winding her briefly.

"Alright?" Ginny wheezed out. Luna smiled down at her, nodding. Buttons popped as Luna ripped her shirt open.

"What are -? " And her words were swept away as Luna pressed kisses down her chest and fire sparked down her spine and raced through her blood. And a very important question occurred to her: why the hell was she in a forest with Luna when the last thing she remembered was the attack on Hogsmeade?

"You're… not Luna." Ginny said, not sure why she was so sure that this woman wasn't Luna. Not-Luna sat up abruptly, straddling Ginny as she blinked down at her. Not-Luna smiled in a distinctly Not-Luna way and Ginny realized she was still burning inside.

"Well, it's nice to know I was right about the appearance would allow me to put that on you." She pointed to a pinprick of a mark that was centered between her breasts. It looked similar to a mark that is made when one held the quill above the parchment, thinking about what to write, and a single drop falls.

"What is it?" Ginny asked coldly. There were all sorts of poisons that started with simple marks like that one, and even more dark spells and curses.

"Your newest birthmark. It means you are the heir to the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna and all her powers." Not-Luna smiled down at Ginny, a proud gleam in her eyes.

"That's nice and all… but I'm a Weasley. We're a British pureblood family. We have absolutely no ties to Russia!" Ginny was going to go on, but Not-Luna interrupted her swiftly.

"Your family has no background whatsoever before Septimus Weasley. Anastasia ran from the revolt in Russia. Rasputin gave her one last spell before they parted ways and –. " Not-Luna was cut off by Ginny.

"I don't CARE what Anastasia did or did not do, it has nothing to do with me! I saw her picture in Russia recently; she had strawberry-blonde hair! We Weasleys are all red, RED, not strawberry-blonde! We have a sleeping Guide for heaven's sake! I'm not related to a Grand Duchess; you're crazy!" Ginny shouted, trying to roll the woman on top of her off. Not-Luna didn't budge. Ginny felt the fire that was in her body boil and she writhed in pain; Not-Luna moaned above her and Ginny forced herself to stop moving. The fire simmered down, once more becoming a tame heat just below the surface.

"You have her eyes – the shape, not just the color – and her nose. And of course you all have red hair, if you hadn't interrupted me I was getting there. Now, Rasputin gave Anastasia one last spell before they parted ways – this was after she was forced to watch her sisters murdered before her eyes and watch Rasputin kill the soldiers who would have killed her – and she ran to the island of Britain. Once she was here, she arranged for the Goblins to move only her money from the branch in Russia to a new account here and traded her diamond embedded robes for more money and legal documentation of a new identity. She changed her name to a man's name – Septimus. Somehow she settled on a last name of "Weasley" and permanently changed her hair color to a vibrant red with a potion. To ensure that no one would ever make a connection between who she was now and who she had been, she decided to change a vital part of herself to make it impossible for anyone to make a connection – she changed her gender with magic." Not-Luna paused here, looking like the cat that caught the canary and got to keep their milk. Ginny was not impressed.

"Septimus Weasley is my grandfather. My parents say that there hasn't been a Weasley in generations –" She was going to go on, but Not-Luna clamped a hand down on her mouth.

"You've never even met your grandfather. He died before you were born, was murdered to be more exact. Your father had two brothers, one of whom had four sons. You never met those children, as they were all murdered along with their parents by the same people. Your uncle Bilius died after seeing a Grim. Anastasia's magic made 13 children male and then came you. The fourteenth child, the grandchild of Anastasia – and you are her heir." Not-Luna removed her hand from Ginny's mouth.

Ginny was still not impressed.

"Fine. Say I believe your story about Anastasia becoming my grandfather. Then answer this: How did she impregnate Cedrella, my grandmother?" Ginny was smug – she knew she had Not-Luna here.

"I said she changed her gender, Ginny, not faked it. You live in a world where men can get pregnant. Why in the world is it so difficult for you to believe that a woman can become a man, in every way possible? Your insides are easy to change if you know how to do it." Not-Luna brought up a good point – she knew magical men could become pregnant if the circumstances are right, so why was it so shocking that magical people can change their bodies in other ways? If a person can become an animal at will, why can't they also become the opposite gender, complete with all the quirks?

This explanation also explained some things that Ginny had always wondered about her family – why were they poor if they were an old family? What happened to all the money? Why hadn't she ever read of anything the Weasleys had done in history, especially when the other pureblood families sometimes had whole books dedicated to their contributions in history? Why didn't she know where her family's Guide was buried? Her mother always talked about cousins of hers, aunts, and even her grandparents – but Ginny had never heard her father mention anyone in his family beyond his parents and brothers. Probably because he didn't know any of them, because they were all murdered during the revolt in Russia or died there, not knowing that Anastasia had survived.

'But why does any of that matter to me, right now? That's all well and good, but it doesn't do anything for me at this moment - not when there's a war going on.'

"What does that have to do with me? Yay, I'm the heir to the Grand Duchess, but why are you telling me this? I have more important things to worry about then my bloodline!" Ginny pushed Not-Luna, trying to sit up. Not-Luna didn't budge.

"Weren't you listening? You have received her powers – her legacy. Rasputin gave her one last spell; it was used to enslave the ultimate protector for her. Rasputin loved her very much; she was the princess of his heart. He loved her more than his own life, more than his own soul, and he desperately wanted to protect hers." Ginny wasn't sure she was liking where this was going. She took a deep breath.

And was shocked she could see her breath when she exhaled. She was warm, perfectly warm in fact, but upon inspection she realized that the grass was wilting and that Not-Luna's lips were turning blue.

'Oh Merlin, no. No, no, no!' She thought to herself as the fire warmed her from the inside and Not-Luna grinded down on her, moaning in a way that Ginny would love to hear the real Luna moan.

A cloaked figure swept into her vision and even though she wasn't cold, she knew what it was. Even without hearing Tom's voice slithering its way inside her head, telling her she was an expendable child and all his other lies, she knew it was a Dementor.

"That is your ultimate protector. The head of the group enslaved to protect you and yours. Rasputin wanted to protect Anastasia... and now he wants to protect you." Not-Luna whispered in her ear, grinding herself down against Ginny again, moaning in delight. Ginny felt the fire wash through her, making her feel as she did when she was with Luna.

Not-Luna kissed her again and Ginny wished it was really Luna, wished it was really Luna moving against her, and not someone just taking her appearance. Her world went white and then silver and for a time she knew no more.

* * *

Draco adored the Library of Alexandria. It was huge and stuffed with all sorts of ancient scrolls and books. Scholars came from all around the world to read, to learn, and to communicate ideas. He'd only been to the library once before with his mother. He was young then, no more than eight or nine, and even then it had fascinated him. The dusty smell of the parchment, the tingle of the magic vibrating through the air, the ideas that existed preserved forever all in one place. The Library was a magical place in all senses of the word – even if half of its texts had gone up in flames.

"There was only so much time to move the materials, only so many people and only so many places to hide the texts. Thus, only a little above half was saved." Harry's sudden voice made Draco jump. Harry giggled behind him.

"Stay out of my head." Draco muttered, only half serious.

"Make me." Harry kissed Draco's check. The skirts of the fluffy dress Harry was wearing brushed against him as Harry moved past him. Harry was wearing a blue dress with the skirts fluffed out and trailing the ground. His hair was down and dyed brown, with bangs covering the lightning scar. Harry was all dressed up because he was going to do something that no one had ever attempted before: steal from the Library of Alexandria.

The Library was a circular building, made of stone and stained glass windows. The center had desks and chairs for studying and people milled around carrying books or scrolls and tall, imposing stone shelves stuffed with books and scrolls lined the walls. There were no guards inside, mostly because they weren't needed. In between the shelves, engraved on the ground, were all sorts of enchantments to prevent theft or copying charms. No one had ever actually attempted to steal from the library, but the enchantments were there as added insurance.

'And here I am with Harry, planning to steal quite a few volumes.'

Harry giggled ahead of him and a few people turned to look at him, and then took another look. Draco smiled to himself – he knew Harry was attractive; he could very easily pull off either gender considering his androgynous looks. Dress him in female clothes and he looks like a girl, dress him in male clothes and he looks like a guy. So, it hardly bothered him when complete strangers looked in Harry's direction. What bothered him much more was when it was someone they knew.

Harry hummed softly as he looked amongst the books. They were looking for three old books – a text on one of the first Magicks of Heaven rituals, a history book written by Aelia Peverall, and a book about something called 'Erus'. Harry wouldn't tell him what 'Erus' was, but he had looked on edge and even slightly scared. Whatever this 'Erus' was, it wasn't pretty.

"_You want to what?" Draco asked. Harry stared at him briefly before repeating his plans._

"_I want to borrow some texts from the Library of Alexandria the next Hogsmeade visit. And I want you to come with me." Harry said again. _

"_Why do you need me?" _

"_Why wouldn't I need you?"Harry tilted his head in confusion. _

"_Because I no doubt don't know all the fancy ways to steal ancient texts from one of the greatest libraries still standing?"Draco countered. Harry sighed. _

"_I told you, I'm borrowing them, not stealing. Look, I just want you to come with me, is that so much to ask? I need to get these texts so I can give them to the Order. I should have done this ages ago, but I was just… I never did and I should have."Harry said quietly, looking at his feet. _

"_What are you 'borrowing'?" Draco asked, sitting down on the chair in his bedroom. The two were talking in Draco's rooms, because here they were alone. _

"_A textbook on a Magicks of Heaven ritual that Merlin created, a text about the current times – it's a history book now – and a compilation of… what Erus is." Harry glanced up at Draco quickly, searched his face for something, and returned his gaze to the ground. _

"_Erus?"_

"Draco? We're going now." Harry's voice broke him out of his memory. Draco nodded, grabbing his hand and turning to leave. He was sure they wouldn't get far; sure they'd probably get violently thrashed the second they were out the threshold.

The sun shone merrily down on them as they stepped out onto the streets of Alexandria. Being a port city, the temperature wasn't unbearably hot as Egypt is often stereotyped as being and indeed it was rather cool out.

"How did you do that?" Draco demanded once they were behind closed doors in a hotel room halfway across the city. Draco reached into his pocket, pulling a shrunken truck out, and resizing it once it was on the ground.

"I borrowed. The spells are designed to prevent theft… not borrowing. After all, it _is_ a library. You just have to know the spell to put on the books to… 'check them out', as it were. Over time, people have stopped passing on that spell, mostly because the knowledge was deemed too important to just allow out and about, but with someone like me…" Harry trailed off, placing the three rather large texts on a desk. He reached into the truck for his Hogwarts uniform, placing it on the bed.

"Of course." Draco felt like slapping himself – of course someone with Harry's memories would remember how to remove things from the Library, it was probably common knowledge at one point in time among certain circles.

Harry was clearly struggling with getting out of the dress. It looked simple enough, but the zipper in the back had buttons running down the length of it, making it look like it had a button up back as opposed to a zippered one.

Draco stepped up and started undoing the buttons. Harry's arms dropped to his sides. Once all the buttons were undone, Draco unzipped the dress.

"Go sit and I'll take your tights off." Harry giggled and went to sit on the desk. Draco reached up Harry's dress to unroll the tights.

"You don't have to do that you know." Harry whispered. Draco smiled, throwing the tights over his shoulder as he placed a kiss to the side of Harry's right knee.

"This just gives me a good excuse to look up your skirt."

"I wasn't aware you needed an excuse." Harry said gently, smiling at him.

* * *

Molly clutched the battered teddy bear to her chest as she sat on Percy's old bed. When the Death Eaters had raided their house, they hadn't actually taken anything, just destroyed some plates and furniture, and set some things on fire. They hadn't even opened Percy's door.

_Arthur walked into the kitchen, looking as Molly must have when she got news that her beloved brothers were murdered. Kingsley was practically holding him up and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here._

"_Arthur, what is it? Who…" She couldn't finish. _

"_Maybe we ought to put him to bed. He's… not hurt, but he needs rest." Kingsley said, speaking carefully, almost wearily. They managed to get Arthur upstairs to their bedroom and gently put him to bed. Arthur didn't speak or even acknowledge their presence. They both moved back down to the ground floor, and Kingsley steered her into the sitting room. _

"_Molly, I need to tell you something. It's important, so I don't want you to interrupt me, okay? Can you do that?" Kingsley spoke to her as she herself had often spoken to her kids when they were much younger. She made an irritated noise at being treated in such a manner, but nodded. _

"_We went to help France when Death Eaters attacked. You know that. There, Arthur fought a Death Eater and… Molly, there's no easy way to say this. It was Percy. Percy was a Death Eater." _

_Molly collapsed on a sofa. One of her babies was a Death Eater?_

"_No…" She remembered when she got a letter home that Percy had gotten into a fight with one of the older Ravenclaws at Hogwarts because they called one of his friends a "mudblood". How in the world had that boy turned into a Death Eater? Why?_

"_Molly, that's not… There's more." She looked at him in confusion. How could there be more? How much more of a failure of a mother could she be? _

_Kingsley kneeled in front of her, taking her hands, and Molly started to hyperventilate. _

'_No… No, no no. No, no, no, nonononononono.'_

"_He's dead, Molly." _

Tears trailed down her face as she clutched the teddy bear closer. Percy had taken all his things with him when he left. There were only a few things left, mostly stuff from his childhood. Old clothes, old books, old drawings, old stuffed animals, old letters from her, old, old, old. He didn't need them when he left… they hadn't been important enough to take.

A bundle of letters was stacked neatly on his desk. She had already looked over them, long before these last two pain filled days. It was every letter she had ever written to him, every little note she had given to him to remind him how much she loved him. They were deemed unimportant by Percy. And now…

And now…

"Molly…" _His_ voice sounded from the doorway. She didn't turn to look at him, just continued to stare at the letters. He moved and put his hand on her shoulder. Something snapped in Molly, and she wrenched herself away from his touch.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She screamed at him, whirling to face him. He jerked back, looking miserable and haunted. He looked like he was in such pain.

"YOU KILLED MY BABY! MURDERER!" She pushed him with everything she had in her and he went crashing to the ground. She could hardly see him, the tears blurred everything.

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY BABY'S ROOM!" He went flying out of the room, crashing into the wall. He stood up, looking at her with pain filled eyes. It infuriated her.

Her hand struck his face and he was send back to the ground with the force of her blow. She didn't pause, just descended on him, hitting him wherever she could reach. She hated him, hated him more than anything, she wanted him to hurt. After a few seconds, the strength left her and she buried her face in her hands, sobbing. He stayed still underneath her for a time before finally sitting up to wrap his arms around her. She struggled weakly against him, not wanting to leave the comfort of his arms and hating them at the same time.

"He was my baby too, Molly. He was my baby, too." He sobbed into her hair, broken and hurting. Just like her.

* * *

Blaise yawed as he listened to his year mates talk around him.

'Really, just because Draco and the neutral kids are out doesn't mean that they shouldn't put up anti-eavesdropping spells. And they call themselves Slytherins?' Blaise could see that the older years obviously had the same thought-process if their annoyed looks were anything to go by.

"What about his relationship with Potter?" Parkinson spat out. Nott rolled his eyes before responding.

"Everyone knows they're friends, but seriously if Potter were to drop dead I doubt it would affect him any. No, we need something else… something to say 'you'll pay for being a traitor'. This would be easy if he had a pet of some sort…" Nott trailed off, looking thoughtful.

"What about Granger?" Crabbe asked. The poor guy probably didn't even understand why they were all out to get Draco; he just did as he was told.

"That would be good! After all, they're obviously more close than Potter and Malfoy are." Parkinson said. Blaise inwardly winced at the abuse of grammar – seriously, who taught this girl how to talk? She was a disgrace to aristocracy.

"I don't want to die. If we go after Granger, Potter will kill us." Goyle said sullenly. Nott seemed to pale a few shades, obviously seeing the other boys' point.

"Look, the Dark Lord is already moving on this. Obviously he has plans for Malfoy. So, why don't you lot just let it go? He'll be dealt with." Blaise said quietly, as if the rest of the common room hadn't been listening in. He had everyone's attention with that declaration, so hopefully this bought Draco some breathing room.

"Hogsmeade is under attack!" A little third year practically screamed as he burst into the common room. Everybody glared at him.

"Kid, we're Slytherins. We do not shout or run or burst into rooms. Further more, the fact that we're here obviously means we were told to stay out of Hogsmeade today. Thus the reason so many of us are here, along with a few Ravenclaws and a handful of Hufflepuffs. Now, if you don't want to see your insides, I'd suggest sleeping somewhere else." Claunsie, a sixth year, snarled out.

For the announcement it would seem as if their whole house was still in the school, which was ridiculous as half the kids in Slytherin actually came from neutral families. Blaise was sure that amongst the dead that Hogsmeade no doubt had there were a fair number of Slytherins.

'I don't care how many of us this war claims, that madman is not laying a hand on Draco. Not between me and Potter.'

Blaise cracked his neck as he stood and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Parkinson asked suspiciously. Blaise rolled his eyes at her blatant show of emotions.

"Out."

And Blaise walked out of the common room and headed for the deeper parts of the castle. When the school was being built, the dungeons had been the primary area of study and living for the students, or so he had read. It made sense, as there were still unused classrooms and even dorm rooms. The bed frames were little more than broken and dusty wood, but it was still interesting to think of what once was. Back then they separated by Year, but then the other Wizarding School that Hogwarts was competing with collapsed and the student body grew larger – thus the need for a full blown castle.

"I wonder if by the end of this war we'll even need a castle anymore… so many of the new generation is dead or dying…" Blaise muttered to himself.

"The... castle... is... always... needed..." The raspy, gasping voice made Blaise whip around with his arm out. There didn't appear to be anyone…

"Show yourself!" Blaise demanded, hoping that it was just Peeves playing a trick and not anything else, like disgruntled Housemates.

'Then again… where has Peeves been…?'

"Even… if… no… here… needed…" The raspy voice sounded again and it sounded like it was gasping for air and it was coming from… the wall?

"_Lumos_." Blaise turned his wand to the walls, not sure what he was looking for. "Say something!" He commanded, hoping that maybe the voice would lead him to it.

"Castle… always… needed…" The voice was weaker, but Blaise was close to it, just a few paces down the corridor and…

Peeves.

He looked like he was coming out of the wall and yet attached to it, almost like a stone sculpture than anything else. The normally bright and energetic poltergeist was dull and it seemed as if speaking or moving were too much of a trial for him. His arms were outstretched and from the waist down he was one with the wall.

"What in the world…?" Blaise whispered, not sure what he was looking at.

'What manner of enchantment does something like this?'

"You, boy, what are you doing down here?" The Bloody Baron's sharp voice made Blaise turn sharply, wand still out, on high alert. The ghost glided towards him, mouth set in a scowl, probably ready to reprimand him for being out of bounds. Blaise could tell the moment the ghost saw Peeves – the Baron's eyes widened and a look of urgency settled in.

"Boy, can you defend yourself?" He barked.

"Yes, but what's happened to Peeves?"

"Not any of your concern right now. Stay here; I must go get the Headmaster. He is in Hogsmeade dealing with the current situation. I will return post haste, you must remain here. I hope, for your sake, you can defend yourself. I also hope you will not need to. Stay." And he zoomed through the wall, leaving Blaise alone. He adjusted the grip on his wand.

'Defend myself? Against what?' He thought, the little hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing up.

"Always… needed…"

* * *

Author's Note: ALRIGHT! THIS CHAPTER IS DONE! You have no idea the hell I went thorough to write this. This is officially the beginning of the end and I had to write is very carefully. It sucked. So, it would be AWESOME you guys left me reviews. Even if they're only one word.


	16. Chapter 16

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

Author's Note: I have no idea how many more chapters we've got, but the current estimate is around 5. So… Yay? I'm so sorry that I update this fic so, so slowly – there was school and then RL hit the fan and then I got really into Glee (DAMN YOU DARREN CRISS, WHY DOYOU HAVE TO BE SO AWESOME?) so it just took forever for me to get this all out. And as you all know…the next wait will probably be long too. Sorry.

* * *

Albus was grim as he looked at Peeves. Bill stood next to him, quietly unweaving the spells keeping Peeves connected to the stone wall. Mr. Zabini had already been dispatched back to the Slytherin common room.

"I can get him free, but I'm not sure what put him here. It's obviously more than a mere prank, but other than that I have no idea what did this." Bill stated grimly. Albus nodded. He had a good idea of what had happened.

"Bill, my boy, I must wonder if you have had any news from your parents…" Albus wasn't sure why he brought it up, here when Bill was in the middle of concentrating and probably not in the mood to hear about his brother's sad demise. But Albus had been in his shoes once, and he knew how it felt to lose a sibling. He knew he would want to know.

"Yes." Bill staid firmly, jaw set. There was no mistaking it – Bill knew about Percy's unfortunate decisions and his death. He was probably told by another member of the Order, now that Albus thought about it. "Charlie and I know. The kids don't."

Albus nodded to himself. Molly and Arthur had finally come out of their caves of grief a little, long enough to tell him that they were sending a letter to the castle explaining about Percy and if any of the children want to talk to please connect the floo.

With a snap and a flash of golden light, Peeves was disconnected from his stone imprisonment. He hovered a few centimeters off the ground, looking at Bill in a peculiar way.

"Thank you, Bill. That's all I need from you at this moment. Molly's letter to your siblings should be here by now, if you wish to stay…" Albus trailed off, leaving the decision to Bill. The younger man nodded, once, before walking off. Albus sighed and turned to Peeves.

"Can you please tell me how you came to be conjoined with the dungeon wall, Peeves?" He asked pleasantly, being sure to twinkle with extra force.

"Peevesy was minding his own business, he was… when castle decided to eat Peevesy. It needed Peeves, so Peeves went." Peeves rushed through his explanation, sounding like a frightened toddler. "It was toad-woman's fault! But Peeves helped, he did. Peeves helped."

Albus blinked, in shock more than anything else. 'Peeves had been missing since Dolores was still alive and teaching here? And no one noticed? I never noticed?'

"Thank you for helping, Peeves, it was much appreciated. If you'll excuse me, I have to go check the state of the wards. Please allow the Bloody Barron to update you on current… affairs." Albus swept away, heading deeper into the school. He had to check the wards: if what Peeves was saying was true, then they were almost compromised by Dolores. He couldn't afford to have them weakened in any way right now.

* * *

"What do you mean she just appeared?" Bill asked his brothers coldly. He had been terrified when Poppy told him that his baby sister had been in Hogsmeade when it came under attack and that she was missing from the students that were brought back. He was near hyperventilating at the very thought that two of his baby siblings – for the only one he called 'younger' and not 'baby' was Charlie – were dead. When the twins rushed in, one of them carrying her, he almost didn't let Poppy near her. He was so, so happy that she was alive and there that he was crying, clutching her close. It wasn't until Poppy snapped that he might be hurting her that he let his baby sister go and be attended to by the medi-witch.

"We were helping the Order and Aurors bring people into Hogwarts -the gates were as far as the wards would let any of the students go- and when we were going back out to help more… she was there. Once we got close enough, she fainted and we grabbed her. We performed a few identification spells on her, to be sure, so we know it's her. She was just… there." The twins spoke as a strange melding of voices and Bill found that he could tell them apart, vocally – Fred's voice sounded closest to their father's while George's was slightly higher in pitch.

'Huh, George sounds kinda like Percy… Dear Circe, they don't know yet. None of them know yet…' Bill thought to himself in a near daze.

The infirmary was filled with injured students, Aurors, medi-witches and wizards bustling from one to another. The dead were being held in another room off Poppy's office – apparently, that's what it was for. Sometimes, Bill forgot that the school was very old and had stood during numerous wars, so it made sense that their was a room specifically for corpses. Still, there was the strong sense of just how _wrong_ it was for a school to have such a room.

"Where are Harry and Ron?" Bill asked, belatedly realizing that he should have asked that question first, all things considered. The twins look at each other, communicating something to each other, and Bill's whole body tensed.

"Harry and Draco are in Alexandria, they left this morning. Ron and Hermione went to talk to her parents. They should be back –" They were cut off by the door opened to admit the very people they were talking about. Hermione and Ron hurried over to the twins, looking worried.

"Is everyone okay?" Hermione asked in a rush.

"Luna is a bit burned, she was the one responsible for Zonko's exploding; Neville and Eleanor were put out, Neville for hysteria and Eleanor for medical healing; and Ginny is unconscious. Seamus and Dean are dead." Fred spoke while George remained silent and somber. Hermione closed her eyes and sank into a chair. Ron's fists clenched as he turned his head, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath. Hermione touched his arm gently and Ron visibly pulled himself together before sitting down next to Hermione.

"We had contact with Harry and Draco; they're coming back right now. Apparently, they got what they needed." Ron said speaking to the twins in such an authoritarian tone that Bill was struck by the sudden thought that his baby brother wasn't a baby anymore. Hermione leaned on him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. She looked so small.

'Not babies, but not adults either. They shouldn't even have to deal with this shit.' Bill thought. A house-elf popped in, holding a folded bit of parchment in its hands. He looked at Hermione worriedly before presenting the parchment to Ron.

"For Harry Potter's Wheezy, letter from mummy Wheezy." The little creature said as Ron took the letter. As the house-elf popped away, Bill reached over and took the letter.

"That's for all of you kids, so let's wait till Ginny is conscious, shall we?"

They all fell into silence and Bill felt horrible that out of them, he was the only one who knew one of their own was dead.

* * *

Draco was quiet as he sat with Harry in the Headmaster's office. When they had gotten back to the school, there was a lot of yelling on the half of the Order. Draco had half a million things he wanted to shout at them, but none of the words came. It was like he was trapped in his own space.

Harry had slammed the books onto the nearest table during all the yelling, causing a complete standstill as he explained what they were and where the books were from. He then went to sit next to Draco and they hadn't moved since. That had been a good two hours ago, maybe three. And Draco was still caught in his own space.

Harry had lied to him. All things considered, that wasn't exactly correct; it wasn't so much as a lie as a withholding of information and manipulation of facts. Harry had not dragged Draco with him to Alexandria because he simply wanted Draco there; he brought Draco along because of the attack on Hogsmeade. Harry didn't want Draco anywhere near the attack, like a parent shielding their child.

"_You don't trust me to be able to handle myself in a battle situation, is that it? I'm obviously just a helpless damsel you have to protect!" Draco snapped at Harry, who was looking confused and upset. _

"_That's not – " _

"_You just said it was! You just said you did this today because you knew there was going to be an attack on Hogsmeade and didn't want me there." Draco was going to continue shouting, but Harry cut in when he paused for breath._

"_I just didn't want you to be in danger, is that such a bad thing?" Harry was getting louder, not quite shouting yet, but his voice was at least raised. Draco felt a little smug about it – he never realized how much he disliked Harry's maturity until then. _

"_You're not supposed to – Harry, I'm not your CHILD: I'm your lover, your boyfriend, YOUR PARTNER!" Draco wasn't really sure where this was coming from. He knew Harry didn't view him as a child, but sometimes Harry's constant worry about him grated on his nerves. Harry looked a little taken-a-back from his outburst. It was some time before Harry spoke._

"_You're right, I'm sorry. I just… I didn't mean for it to come across in that manner. I'm used to manipulating the board around you, moving all my pieces around you, to protect you. But you're right; you're not a child anymore. You're my partner and I should treat you accordingly. I just… I worry, you know? I made sure Ron and Hermione were gone, too, practically bullied Hermione into talking to her parents today so they were away from Hogsmeade." Harry whispered, looking at Draco. _

"_Those books… why are you giving them to the Order?" Draco was satisfied with Harry's explanation. He knew Harry worried, knew the other boy didn't mean to treat Draco like a child sometimes; it happened. _

"_They're important. History is important. This war is much more complicated than they think it is… than you think it is. I can't just tell them something without having facts to back it up; especially since what I'm telling them is so complicated and hard to believe. I know it's true because it is and I was there, but I can't just tell them something like this without having outside sources." _

_So, it did have to do with memories Draco no longer had, memories that Draco would regain… eventually. Draco was never sure how to talk about them with Harry – after all, with what little he knew, how could he be sure that Harry knew more then he did? Or that Harry knew how this worked?_

'_Because he knows you get headaches when you remember things and he comes to you during those times. Because you know, at the very least, that Harry is the one that remembers. Because you remember things the clearest when you and he are intimate together – you remember more when intimacy occurs.' A little voice in the back of his mind whispered to him, urging him to just come out and __**ask**__ the fucking question that had been itching to be asked for weeks, months now. _

_Harry reached up to fiddle with his hair and briefly the light caught on the diamond bracelet that had a permanent home on his wrist. Blaise had almost choked when Draco told him what the gift symbolized after he happened to catch a glimpse of it during classes. He trusted Blaise with something that important. _

_He grabbed Harry by the wrist, fingers closing over the bracelet, and pulled the other boy closer. _

"_When I gave you this, I was professing my desire to pursue marriage one day." Harry nodded, clearly confused and anxious. "I need to ask you something and I want you to answer me honestly." Draco paused, staring into Harry's eyes. After a few seconds, Harry nodded, still looking anxious. "Do you love me?"_

"_Yes." Harry didn't hesitate in his answer. He still looked utterly bewildered. _

"_My memories…"Here, Harry tried to back away, turning his head to the side and biting his lip. Draco yanked him closer once more, chests touching, and Harry whimpered. "They come quicker, faster, and clearer when we're together, like this." Draco pressed their lips together, once, twice, before pulling away. "That's the reason we don't go any further, isn't it? There's something there that you don't want me to remember."_

_And Harry looked horrified. _

"_No, no, that's… no." Harry shook his head frantically, trying to explain. "That's not… Draco how much do you know about what happened to me over the summer?" Harry asked. Draco remembered blood and broken bones and Limbo. _

"_Your Uncle almost killed you." _

"_Is that all you thought it was?" Harry asked, looking at Draco's hand where it's still curled around his wrist. He cleared his throat. "Your virginity is important Draco. I just… don't want to rush you, us. Like that." _

_And that old suspicion was starting to creep up along Draco's spine because he had been wondering about this for months. _

"_You want my first time to be special, because yours wasn't." Draco said quietly, trying to push the subject to the surface. Harry took a deep breath before closing his eyes. _

"_I was seven. I was a baby. He had no right to… it was wrong, it was wrong, and I just want to make sure you don't ever feel that dirty and used and abused and disgusting. It wasn't right." Harry didn't cry and he didn't have glassy eyes or anything like that. He just looked revolted and enraged. And Draco didn't ask any other questions, because they weren't important. _

He was brought back to the present by Albus Dumbledore clearing his throat.

"Somehow I think you're about to explain all this rather horrifying but interesting pieces of history, Mr. Potter?" He said, looking at them. Harry took a breath before explaining.

"Merlin tried to create a Guide – it wasn't that hard, they're really nothing more than glorified human sized dolls. They have no soul and they can't really die – if they break they just fix themselves. And they're fanatically loyal. And, because of how they're created and how much magic goes into them they're also very, very powerful. It's why they made perfect soldiers for warring families.

"But Merlin wanted to put something powerful into his Guide, wanted it to be the most powerful. He experimented for decades before he came across an idea. A wonderful, horrible idea. He would create the strongest force of magic and put it into his Guide – he would create a demon and seal it inside a Guide, so it would be forced to obey his whims.

"It would be perfect for Rome – no longer would they need to use the Legion to conquer nations, this single Guide would do more damage then any army of man. That was the idea, anyway." Harry stopped here, running his fingers across the books. The only reason the books were even there was to prove what Harry was about to explain, to prove that he wasn't just making this up or insane.

"He used and created many Magicks of Heaven rituals to create this demon – he massacred villages and nations and his own people. He devoted everything he had to this project and it was eating him alive from the inside out. He wasn't the same, he became twisted with power and greed and obsession. He invaded Khemet – Egypt as it's now known – and took some scriptures from the Palace in Cairo depicting how to summon bits of Egyptian Gods inside you. With a few tweaks his masterpiece was almost done. All that was left was to go through with it."

"Muggles say it was a plague that swept through Rome. It wasn't a plague, it was a massacre – people screaming and buildings being ripped open and the horrible laughing. So many people…" Harry was looking off, seeing something only he could see. "And I was screaming 'what have you done, Merlin, what have you done?' because it wasn't stopping, it was spreading and _eating everything_. It was like the ultimate Magick of Heaven ritual gone mad and Merlin was laughing, oh Circe, he was laughing… And before him his doll stood up and Merlin started to chant and then _nothing happened._ It had gotten away from him; it was destroying the whole Western portion of Rome and beyond." Harry blinked, seeming to come back to himself.

"He is the reason the Roman Empire split in two and later fell. If he hadn't unleashed that… _thing_ none of it would have happened – or at least it wouldn't have happened in that era. Men, woman, children – gone – ripped apart and devoured for nothing, for curiosity. For shits and giggles, essentially! And he didn't even know what he was doing!" Harry was yelling, sounding half hysterical. He gasped a few times, body shaking, before he sat down; blinking as if confused. Draco knew the feeling well – the dizzying, almost double vision; the knowledge that what he was seeing was both the present and the past.

"Reincarnation isn't unheard of: it's very rare, but typically it's only 'this person was alive 5 centuries ago and is now reborn in the same family' deal. You sound… much older." Albus said, calmly staring at Harry over the top of his spectacles.

"I was a general in the Roman Legion and an adviser to Merlin."

"You're the reincarnation of Lady Saliar?" Albus asked, which made Draco wary because how did he know that name?

"How do you know that name?" Harry asked sharply.

"We have another book, a journal we found through our own sources that confirms much of your story. It mentions Lady Saliar and I connected her to you. Black hair, green eyes, and a lighting bolt birthmark on her shoulder – it seemed like a few too many coincidences." Albus said, smiling at Harry.

"I like my hair and eyes. The lighting bolt this time around was a freak accident." Harry says dazed.

"Not that I don't like finding out more about you, Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid I don't see how this applies to today's current events."

"When Merlin's doll broke and he realized he had no control over the thing he created and as he lay at my feet, broken and believing I had taken everyone he loved from him, he invoked another ritual – sealing the thing into a staff. His staff. Doing so ripped his soul apart and his body froze completely from the inside. I had realized what he was doing, so I helped.

"Between the two of us, we got it sealed. Merlin will never touch these shores again because there is no part of him left that exists as we know it. I hid the staff, for centuries, trying to figure out a way to ensure the thing inside of it never escaped, trying to figure out how to destroy it. When the Byzantine Empire was breathing it's last an upstart politician somehow found it.

"I still have no idea how he did it, but he _broke the staff_, the incompetent fool. Being locked away without food weakened it, so it possessed the fool and that's what caused the last massacre before the Empire collapsed on itself. It possesses people, fuels their desires and greed, and urges them to kill as many people as possible in short amounts of time – to bask in bloodshed and carnage, because it feeds off that.

"It's the thing that attached itself to Tom Riddle in a moment of great weakness."

* * *

It was cold and wet and dark. Serpentine eyes took in the surrounding atmosphere. He hated this place, this place that houses a portion of himself that he discarded, once, long ago.

_You need it back. I cannot help you as you are, you are broken. She will not want you as you are; you are broken._

"I cast these aside for a reason." Never mind that he doesn't know the reason anymore, never mind that a part of him knows his Diamond will always accept him, not matter what he is or how broken.

_I cannot help you if you are not complete._

And the threat of never seeing Diamond again, of having her forever barred from him, moves him into the darkness to greet his oldest horcrux and rejoin with the fragment of soul he cast aside many, many years ago.

After this one he'll have five more to re-find. And then, at long last, his master would give him Diamond and they would be together again.

* * *

Ginny opened her eyes to bright, bright light. Seconds after she squeezed her eyes closed and groaned, Madam Pomfrey, identified by her voice, handed her a potion to drink.

"Miss Weasley, I'm glad you're alright." Madam Pomfrey said as she helped her sit up. "A few of your brothers are outside, along with Miss Granger, to inquire after your health. Your friends are too, but as you're still weak I'll just let in your siblings and Miss Granger." She bustled off towards the doors.

Within minutes her bed was covered with her brothers and Hermione. Bill, whom Ginny was somewhat alarmed to see, scooped her into his side while the twins each held one of her hands. Ron and Hermione sat on the edges facing her with smiles.

"We were really worried about you, little missy." Bill said planting a kiss to the top of her head. She smiled – Bill kisses had made her smile since she was a baby – and looked up at her eldest brother.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

Ron and Hermione chuckled, Fred and George smiled widely, and Bill rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here anyway?" She questioned Bill, who tensed and paled quite a few shades. Her alarm increased.

"I have a letter for you guys. From mom and dad," He choked out. He stuck his hand into a pocket and pulled out a letter, handing it to the nearest sibling, which happened to be one of the twins. They read it together, expressions becoming grimmer before they passed it to Ron. Hermione read the letter over his shoulder and she gave off more expression then Ron – she looked horrified and sad, whereas Ron blanked his face of all expression.

Someone was dead. 'Please don't be Charlie, please, please don't be Charlie.' She thought to herself as Hermione gave her the letter. She read it and felt numb inside. Like a cold weight flowed throughout her body, anchoring her down.

It wasn't Charlie. It was Percy and he was dead. He was a Death Eater and now he's dead. Percy was dead. Her older brother who used to play dolls with her was dead. He used to read with her. He sometimes tucked her in at night. He used to sing her lullabies when she was sick. And the last thing she said to him was 'I don't want to talk to you, save your ink for someone else.'

And now she can never apologize.

"This is really happening."

* * *

The dorm seemed uncomfortably larger. Neville sat on his bed, staring at the space where Seamus and Dean's beds used to be, where their trunks once were, in a numb state of horror. There were only three people sharing this room now.

"Neville?" Harry opened the door gently, peeking in at him. Neville looked up at him, his eyes burning because this was wrong. This was wrong.

"It's too big." He said as Harry sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Neville curled into him, because Harry gives wonderful hugs – the kind Neville used to dream about when he still had dreams about miraculous recoveries or a night where Lestrange hadn't come to his house to torture his parents.

"I know, I know," Harry says, smoothing his hair back and kissing the top of his head, like when he was eleven and woke up from a nightmare about screaming and laughter and Harry was there, trying to calm him. "It's gonna feel weird for a long time, but it'll get batter. I hate to say this, but I'm really glad you're alright, Nev. I know it's not fair or right and this is all messed up, but… sometimes things happen." Harry continues, sounding gentle and older than ever. Everything was wrong.

"They're really gone." Neville muttered into Harry's shirt, memories of the attack coming back.

_Dean trying to hold a shield while Neville tried to create a fire-whip. _

_Seeing Seamus defending a family long enough for the parents to get their kids to safety. _

_Both of them jumping in front of Eleanor, green light ricocheting towards them. _

The moment of time that was a mix of fire, ash, burning hair, and thrumming magic pulsing through his body, leaving him drunk and feeling strange.

"Something strange happened after they – after they – d-died." Neville could feel tears rolling down his face and Harry was rubbing his back and this was just like he was eleven after having a nightmare. "I created and held my fire-whip but, it was strange, I didn't feel right. Everything was strange and…" And he thinks he went a little crazy.

"It felt like you were at the edge of a cliff, looking down at yourself feeling like you wanted to cry and scream and laugh all at once. It was like looking at a stranger in your body, doing things and you couldn't help but find everything _funny_ and it felt like you were about to laugh yourself to pieces except certain parts of you already felt broken." Harry says and Neville is somewhat amazed that someone else knows so well what those moments were like because he was sure no one else would understand. He pulls away from Harry, drying his eyes, to look at the other boy.

He looks so much older than a fifteen year old should. Neville doesn't blame him, he feels much older than he should too.

"I'm a murderer." Neville whispers because out of everything, that's what is bothering him the most. He can take dead friends, he can take war, he can take seeing dead children; he was prepared for those things when Harry came back last year saying the Dark Lord was back. He didn't know he'd have to be prepared to be a murderer at fifteen years old.

"I know." Harry whispered. "So am I."

And this was real. This was really happening. He was a murderer, he _killed someone_. He hadn't even kissed a girl yet and already he had defended his life and been forced to kill someone. He felt so violated somehow, because this wasn't how things were supposed to go. He should be talking about sex with Seamus and Dean, because they're fifteen year old boys. He should be stressing about his schoolwork and having a crush on some pretty girl. He shouldn't be thinking about how Seamus and Dean's families are going to take the horrible news of their deaths. He shouldn't be worried about how he's gonna go through the rest of the day without breaking down crying thinking about how it felt to slice someone in half. He shouldn't be worried about what he's going to say to Eleanor, shouldn't have to feel like screaming at her and hugging her at the same time.

He wasn't ready to deal with any of this stuff, he wasn't ready. He didn't know what to do. He cried in Harry's arms until he slipped off into sleep, emotionally drained.

* * *

Ginny was let out of the Infirmary hours ago. She had just been wandering Hogwarts since then, trying to think of what to do. She didn't want to deal with any of the aftermath of the attack – people she knew, people she saw _everyday_, were dead. One of her older brothers was dead. Her friends were dead. She wasn't even who she thought she was anymore; apparently she was the heir to fucking _Russian royalty._

'What is my life?' She thought to herself.

She found herself sitting on a window seat, alone on the fourth floor, looking out over the grounds. To think that just this morning people had been alive that are now dead. Just this morning her friends had been joking around, laughing, filled with life… Seamus and Dean were older than her. They were Ron and Harry's age.

And now they're dead. Will she die by the end of this war? Will another of her brothers? Another friend? Luna?

"Ginny." Eleanor was standing next to her, fumbling with her shirt, looking down. She looked small and nervous again, like she had before the DA. Before she got out of her shell and learned to be confident in herself.

"Ellie." She had only just started calling Eleanor by a nickname recently; the one who came up with the name had been Dean.

"Dean called me that."

"Do you want me not to call you that?" Ginny didn't know how to do this conversation, they should be talking about what happened, she should be asking Eleanor how she felt, if she was okay… She didn't know how to do this conversation, and she was doing it wrong.

"No… I like it. You can call me that; it's what he would have wanted." The other girl sat down at Ginny's feet, back to the wall. Ginny nodded, even though Eleanor wasn't looking at her. Ginny didn't even know where to begin – Eleanor's shoulder was obviously healed and she didn't have any visible cuts or bruises anymore, so asking her if she was okay was rather pointless.

'How am I going to show Ellie I'm here for her if I can't even tell her I'm concerned about her? For Merlin's sake, I don't even want to have this conversation – I just want to go to bed, curl up, and pretend this isn't happening.'

"Dean told me he liked me. This Hogsmeade visit was supposed to turn into our first date." Eleanor whispered, staring blankly ahead of her. Ginny felt the bottom of her stomach fall out – what was she supposed to do here?

"I'm sorry." Ginny reached a hand down to Eleanor's hair, wanting to _do something_ to help. Eleanor smacked her hand away.

"He's dead because of me. Seamus and he protected me and they're dead because of me." Eleanor was still just staring blankly ahead. Something scorching welled up inside Ginny, demanding to be let out.

"Don't say that! Don't take that from them!" The scorching thing burst out of her, and Ginny thought that maybe she shouldn't be yelling at Eleanor, but she couldn't help it. "They wanted to protect you; they did what they did because they care about you! Don't take that from them, that wasn't your fault; it's not yours to take!" She finished vehemently.

Eleanor turned to look at her, looking a little gob smacked. Ginny looked away, uncomfortable with her outburst.

"I'll give them that, but that attack on Hogsmeade was my fault. Warren told me it was all arranged so Voldemort could get me – something about needing a puppet or something in Hogwarts and how I'll be able to hurt Harry or get close to him or something. The attack was my fault." And now Eleanor was crying – not great, ranking sobs or whole body tears, just silent tears running down her face while she looked at Ginny with a lost expression.

Ginny wasn't sure what to say. Demand proof? Prove she didn't believe Eleanor? Believe her? What should she say?

"I don't think this was your fault." Ginny said slowly. "You said it yourself: Voldemort arranged the attack. He ordered his followers there, his followers killed people, injured others, set things on fire. This is his fault."

They didn't talk after that.

* * *

Hermione sat next to Ron, not thinking about anything in particular. Ron had his arm around her and was looking into the fire. Draco was sitting on the floor, a blanket around his shoulders. The Malfoy heir looked out of place in the Gryffindor common room. People were giving the odd trio their space and for once the common room was eerily quiet. People cried to themselves or just sat in their corners, reeling from the attack. After all, Seamus and Dean weren't the only dead students being held in that room off the Infirmary.

Harry came downstairs and sat next to Draco.

"Neville's asleep." He said quietly. For a few moments no one said anything. The four of them just sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts.

"I went to my parent's house to talk to them, like you told me to. I didn't like how it ended." Hermione said. Harry waved his wand and put a silencing charm and privacy charm around them. Draco turned his head towards her, not quite facing her, but she supposed that was all she was getting.

"I told them about the war. About Harry's role in it, about the danger, the people dying, the attacks. For once, I told them the truth. Mama told me she was pregnant." Hermione felt strangely old referring to her mother by such a childish name. "That I was putting my family in danger. I tried to tell them that we could protect them but they wouldn't listen."

"_The Order of the Phoenix can protect you!"She said strongly, tears in her eyes. 'Harry can protect you, __**I**__ can protect you!' she thought to herself. _

_Her mother shook her head, eyes closed and lips pursed. _

"_Yes, because from what you've told us that worked wonderfully for the Weasley's – not to mention the Potters!" Her dad yelled at her. He __**yelled**__ at her. He never yelled at her._

"They told me to pick – my family and the "safe" muggle world, or the "dangerous" wizarding world. I tried to explain that neither were safe, that Voldemort killed muggles too, that just because the worlds were separate didn't mean they were islands, but they wouldn't listen to me."

"_Neither world is safe, Mr. Granger." Ron said quietly from his seat next to her. _

"_I will not have you endanger this family anymore." Her mother had never sounded so cold. Where was the woman who gave hugs of warmth and spoke so gently? "We have to leave our home every summer you're here to prevent you uprooting our lives. And now we're finally going to have a __normal__ family, I'm not letting you shake that, too. I'm tired of living in fear of your world." Her mother said calmly, hands on her slightly protruding stomach. _

_Hermione could feel hot tears making their way down her face. Her father was holding a picture, looking at it with a devastated expression. _

"They kicked me out. I grabbed a few things from my room and left." She didn't cry as she explained this, just leaned on Ron and absorbed his warmth.

_Her room was already in a transition stage. Boxes littered the floor and her bed was completely stripped. _

_A sudden burst of anger filled her – were they __planning__ on getting rid of her? What, now that they had a baby, a baby that had a chance at being "normal," she wasn't important? _

_She grabbed one of the boxes and dumped it out on the floor. Old report cards from primary schools, childish book reports, old books that Hermione hadn't read in years – all useless now apparently. _

_She dumped another box over – trophies and ribbons from various academic contests and spelling bees. Useless. Meaningless. _

_Another box. Pictures of family holidays and summer camps. Worthless. (She ignored Ron stuffing them all into a box he was holding.)_

_Another box. Her old clothes, baby shoes and a few baby outfits. Maybe they'd give these to her little sister or brother that she'll never meet?_

_The last box has a few of Hermione's school books from Hogwarts – her first few magical textbooks – and various other odds and ends from her world. She grabbed it and looked around her room one last time – should she grab whatever clothes she has in her closet? She decided not to, they're probably too small anyway. After all, she grew a few inches again over the course of the school year. The only pair of shoes left in the closet are a pair of disgusting formal shoes that she's always wanted to set on fire. _

_This is the messiest she's ever seen her room – things are scattered all over the floor, boxes are overturned from where she tossed them aside._

"_Hermione." Ron's voice is soft, his touch on her elbow gentle. She turns to face him (again ignoring the box in his grasp) and realizes this is the first time he's seen her bedroom. _

"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" Hermione asked Harry.

"I've known since you were thirteen, yes. The only reason I pushed for it to happen now was because I didn't want you two at the attack in Hogsmeade." He said quietly. She nodded – it didn't shock her that he knew something so personal for so long without telling her.

"What are you going to do about the summer?" Draco asked, turning fully to look at her. He didn't look pitying or smug or disturbed. Just curious and a little concerned.

"She's staying with us, of course. Weather my parents like it or not – I think it'll do mom good to have something else to think about, you know?" Ron said. Draco nodded.

"Oh, I forgot." Harry whispered, sounding a little bereft. He turned to Ron, reaching a hand out to touch his knee. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Hermione wondered how long Harry had known that Percy was going to die. 'Was it like Cedric, when he knew months in advance? Did he know that Percy had become a Death Eater? Did he even know Percy was going to die?' She wasn't sure if asking those questions were appropriate.

"Can you tell me if they're having a girl or boy?" she asked out of the blue. Harry turned to look at her, staring at her unblinkingly for long seconds. When he stared like this he even unnerved Luna.

"I haven't seen anything about it just yet. To be honest, I'm not sure I will. Traditionally, I see death more often than life." He said. She nodded; it didn't matter anyway, she wouldn't be a part of their life either way.

She fell asleep against Ron's shoulder.

* * *

Classes for the rest of the year were tense; news of attacks, not as big as the one in Hogsmeade, but big enough, littered study groups and more than once students had to up and leave classes when they were suddenly reminded of something so-and-so had done or liked or anything. It wasn't easy. Fred and George seemed to take it upon themselves to cheer the school up; they worked overtime at making sure everybody in a ten foot radius of them was smiling.

The first few meetings of the D.A. were torture. Harry emphasized the physical and worked them into the ground. Whenever someone wanted to rest, Harry threw Seamus and Dean in their faces. It made some of them genuinely hate him for awhile, but time made them get over it. They all knew why he was working them so hard – he didn't want any of them to die. He didn't want to see anymore dead children.

Before anyone knew it, graduation and summer holidays were upon them. Albus spoke beautiful words, once again naming the children that did not make it to this point, and stressing that next year the school would reopen its doors.

And now they were waiting for the train. Every teacher and a few aurors were loitering about for added protection. The Order of the Phoenix was no longer in hiding; they wore white robes with a bright phoenix decorating the back. They stood out, but it seemed to have the added effect of making the students feel safer.

"We got accepted into the Order." Fred said, literally out of the blue. They had all just been standing there when he spoke up.

"Congratulations. Be very careful." Harry said, not looking away from Draco, who was tucking a stand of hair behind his ear.

"Thanks, Harry, means a lot that you can take yourself away from Draco long enough to listen to us." George said jokingly. He may have been joking but there was a certain air of pride about him that he didn't have before.

"I won't see him for a few months. I'll be with Sirius and Remus and he will be with his father and Severus, who will be staying with Neville." Harry said, still not looking away from Draco.

"He's still going to be there if you take your eyes off him for a few seconds, hun." Ron says, trying not to grin. Draco grinned, leaning over to kiss Harry, before he could even bother to respond.

The train rolled in as he pulled away.

* * *

Last notes: Hermione's parents. I said a few chapters ago that they weren't horrible, prejudiced people and I want to reiterate that point. They're not horrible, prejudiced people, they're just scared. They had already known that there was a War going on in Hermione's world and that it might effect them, and then they found out that they were pregnant again. Then, Hermione comes and finally tells them the truth, the whole truth, and it scared them. Genuinely, truly scared them, and for good reason. They were already drawing away from her emotionally to make a furte cut easier, so they just cut themselves off from her earlier then planned. They're not horrible people, they're just scared.


	17. Chapter 17

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah__"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

Author's Notes: Seriously, can I write multi-chapter fics without massive time gaps between chapters? The answer: No. So, go back and reread the chapters to remember where we are and such.

* * *

Summer was not going the way Ginny thought it would. With all the chaos of last year she expected much of the same – attacks, raids, massacres, wide spread panic, that sort of thing. She expected the Order of the Phoenix to be in full swing, always coming and going.

She did not expect to be bored.

She already did all her summer assignments, even the ones Harry had assigned the D.A., and wrote long letters to Seamus and Dean's families expressing her sorrow at their loss. She hadn't heard back from them and honestly didn't think she would any time soon. If ever.

There was no news of any attacks or movement of any kind from Voldemort. She had expected chaos, had braced for a war, but was not prepared for boredom.

"Hey, Gin, you okay?" Charlie stuck his head into her room, sounding casual. Charlie and Bill had come home around the same time she came back from Hogwarts, and Bill brought along Fleur Delacour, whom he met through Gringotts. They shared a room and Ginny wasn't sure what she felt about that relationship.

"I'm fine. Just thinking, you know?" Ginny finally responded. Charlie came to sit next to her. "It's weird, I'm _bored_. We're in the middle of a war and I'm bored. There's something so horribly wrong about that." Ginny continued. Charlie nodded in understanding.

"Come downstairs. Hermione's teaching Fleur a logic puzzle, the twins and dad are messing with a muggle felephone or something, and Ron and Bill are making lunch. It's stir-fry." He said, trying to smile enticingly. Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother, but got up and headed downstairs anyway.

Sure enough, when Ginny reached the ground floor, Hermione was in the middle of explaining something to an interested Fleur while the twins and dad messed with something on the floor nearby. Their father was holding up rather well. He sometimes became silent and stared off into space or had to leave the room abruptly, but at least he interacted with them.

Ginny went to sit with Hermione and Fleur, while Charlie went into the kitchen, most likely to help with lunch. It was weird coming home with Hermione and it was weird seeing her interact with everybody; Ginny never realized how integrated Hermione was into the family until this summer. She knew where everything was, she got into fights with Fred and George, she helped around the house, and even helped with cooking – it was like she was already part of the family. They shared a room, which was the norm, although this summer everything Hermione owned fit into her school trunk.

"Lunch!" Charlie called. Everyone got up and walked into the kitchen and found a seat at the table. Hermione helped Ron and Charlie dish food out and Bill made a plate to take up to Molly. Lunch was delicious, if quiet.

* * *

Luna sat quietly as she looked at her ceiling. Her mother's painted smile smiled down at her. She had been staring at her ceiling for awhile, seriously contemplating something. She had painted her mother from memory shortly after the woman died, out of a want to keep her near. She had pictures, of course, but her ceiling portrait had always warmed her heart. Her mother used to be the single most important thing to her next to her father, so when the woman died Luna had wanted to keep her close somehow.

But now she was thinking of changing it, of painting over it and putting something in its place. Her mother, may she always be in her heart, was no longer the most important thing to her. She had dear friends and Ginevra. Ginevra, who made her heart race and unstuck her words; Ginevra, who never looked at her like she was weird and stood up for her; Ginevra, one of the most beautiful people she'd ever met. Luna was even drawn to the redhead's magic, which was bubbly and warm.

It wasn't just Ginevra either – Harry, Hermione, Ron, and even Eleanor were important to her. Seamus and Dean were dear to her and their deaths made her heart ache, but now they were safe from all harm.

She had to plan out how she wanted her ceiling to look and how much space everyone got. Did she want the painting to be casual or formal? Should it be a big group picture or have each person in their own corner in a frame?

Her train of thought was broken by an owl flying through the open window over her bed. She didn't recognize the owl, but apparently it didn't matter as the it just dropped an official looking piece of parchment on her side table and flew back out the window. Picking it up revealed it to be from the Finnegan family:

_Dear Ms. Lovegood,_

_We thank you for your kind words about our son. Your tidings fell upon our grieving ears and for a time lifted us. We are going through Seamus' things and abiding by his wishes – apparently, he wrote down some requests as to where his things are to go before the Yule holidays. He wished for you to have a portion of his trust fund, which we have already discussed with Gringotts and they are taking care of all financial transactions between our families. It isn't much, but it was what he wanted. We also ask for you to tell one Ginerva Weasley and one Eleanor Gunn that the remaining portions of Seamus' trust fund has been wired as per his request. _

_With this, we wish to extend our wishes for you to be safe and live a long life. We have no desire for extended contact with any of you and are moving out of the country due to the current political atmosphere. _

_From, _

_The Finnegan Family_

Luna sat the letter down. Dean's family hadn't responded to her letter yet, but she didn't hold it against them. Grief had a way of making time move funny.

"Luna, darling, your friend is here." Her father's voice floated up from downstairs. Luna rushed downstairs with a smile on her face. She had invited Eleanor to spend some time with her so neither of them would be too lonely.

Hopefully, this would help them both.

* * *

No matter how old you get, you need people who love you. Sirius firmly believed that, which meant that finding out his adoptive son was older than he was by several centuries didn't hurt him or make him second guess his place in Harry's mind and heart. Harry may be old, but he still needed a father. He still needed people who cared about him. Sure, he might not need a bedtime or strict rules to make him behave, but really that just made things easier for Sirius; this way he didn't need to fumble through raising a child and hoping that he didn't screw the poor kid up.

He was taken out of his thoughts by a tea pot's shrill. He turned the heat off with a flick of his wand and poured some tea into a cup to take into a sitting room. Surprisingly, Grimmauld Place was full of sunlight this summer, mostly due to the fact that Sirius had spend a lot of time taking down walls and adding more windows to the place. His mother's old room was cleared and cleaned from top to bottom, and made into an infirmary. His and Regulus' old rooms were merged into one through the take-down of a wall, which was where the Order mostly held meetings now. He had also added a window to the space, so meetings were filled with sunlight or moonlight instead of darkness. Many of the portraits were tossed into the fire along with tapestries and other various things that Sirius was glad to be rid of. Like Kreacher, who dove after his mother's portrait and burned along with the damned thing.

Remus and Harry were in the drawing room. Remus was pouring over some maps while Harry sat near a window with a book open in his lap. Sirius passed the tea to Remus, who looked up briefly to smile at him, before returning to his maps. They sat in comfortable silence; Remus looking over his maps and drinking his tea, Sirius relaxing in an armchair, and Harry staring out of a window. Eventually, the silence was broken by Harry.

"I've had children of my own; many of them, in fact." He said quietly, not looking at either of them. Remus stopped pouring over his maps and turned his full attention to Harry while Sirius just turned his head. "I think I would have handled my miscarriage a lot different if not for the memories I have of my other children. A part of me was absolutely miserable and in a lot of emotional pain, while the other half was relieved. I was so young, still a child myself; how could I have raised one myself? I was still in school and I knew a war was coming up. That was no environment for a child. Even still, I _wanted_ her, so much. I love children, and I'm so used to being a parent that I was for a moment so excited to be having a child. And I was so heartbroken when she turned out to be a stillborn, but a part of me was also relived."

Harry wasn't crying and didn't look to be upset; he had turned away from the window to look at them. Sirius wasn't sure what to say or even how to process what Harry was saying – it just sounded so incredibly depressing and complicated. What do you say to that? 'I'm sorry that you feel this way, it must have sucked'? 'I understand the thought process and I'm sorry that you had to go through that'?

"I couldn't just stop and process what I was feeling when it happened. I hid my whole pregnancy, so I also had to hide the way I was feeling. And then you came to Hogwarts, and Wormtail was there, and everything was just tailor made for me not to deal with any of it. I could ignore it and deal with you guys and pretend that I was a normal 13 year old. Of course, then summer came and I went to the Weasley's awhile for the Quidditch World Cup – the whole family was there and Mrs. Weasley was in her element. I was more or less forced to deal with what happened, as watching her was reminding me of all the children I'd had. Of course, I dealt with it in time and it didn't hurt anymore. I wanted to tell Ron or Hermione about it, but they were just kids and it wasn't right to put this on them. I didn't have anyone to talk to." Harry said.

"Well, that's what we're here for, kiddo." Sirius responded. At least this part he knew how to deal with.

"I know; it's nice to have someone again." Harry said, smiling.

"Guess you never outgrow parents, huh?" Remus asked, sounding cautious.

"No, you don't."

* * *

If someone had told Neville there would be a day his grandmother, his Potions Professor, and Lucius Malfoy would be sitting calmly at his breakfast table drinking tea, he would have assumed that his grandmother had finally lost her sanity and needed a bed next to his parents. And yet, that was what he was getting used to seeing every morning and his grandmother was still perfectly sane. His grandmother and Professor Snape were apparently early risers and by the time they finished breakfast, Lucius Malfoy would come down to have his morning tea. By the time Neville was up and getting ready to go do his morning gardening, the three were all sitting calmly, drinking tea, and reading various reading materials. It was eerie.

The adults mostly ignored Neville entirely, which he was just fine with. He may not be afraid of Professor Snape anymore, but that didn't mean he particularly liked the man either. Draco was another story entirely. Draco liked Neville's garden and spent almost as much time in it as Neville did. They didn't speak much – the longest conversation they'd had this summer involved Draco thanking Neville for his hospitality – but that didn't make things weird. Neville wasn't much in the mood for talking and just having Draco around was calming to him. Neville tended to his plants, Draco sat under the oldest tree in the garden and they both just did their own thing. Neville mostly thought about the war and went over the training from Harry. He thought about school and his education. He thought about his future, constantly wondering if he was going to have one or if the war was going to kill him, too. He tried his best not to think about Dean or Seamus, because thinking about them hurt and made him so angry – they were all so young and it just wasn't fair that they could _die_.

He didn't even want to imagine what was going through Draco's head. He could barely handle his own thoughts, let alone think about what was going on in other people's heads.

* * *

Hermione loved the Weasleys, she really did. They were lovely people and over the years they had been so good to her. They readily accepted her into their family and never made her feel like an outsider. Mr. Weasley wasn't even put out when Ron brought Hermione home. (Of course, it was more like Ron told his dad that Hermione was coming home with them this summer and Mr. Weasley had just nodded tiredly). She was so close to this family that she felt as if she, too, had lost a brother. She may not have spent her whole childhood with Percy, but she had grown up with him and the Weasleys were her own family now. Percy had been someone who encouraged her thirst for knowledge, had helped make her first study schedule, and he just felt like family. He was her brother and it hurt to know he was dead, never mind the circumstances behind that death.

On top of that hurt was the sting of her parent's rejection and abandonment. From the time she was thirteen, she had figured that there was a big possibility to her parents not being involved in her adult life, but she never expected that they were trying to get pregnant again. She never expected them to just leave her; she thought it would be more of a process throughout her adult life – social calls dwindling, calls steadily not being returned, then finally they'd become the kind of relatives that only interact through cards on holidays. She thought she'd have more time to adjust to the idea of not having them in her life. She never thought they were so…

She never thought they'd just jump for the chance to replace her with a new baby, as though the only purpose for them trying for another child would be to replace the old model.

"Hey, you busy?" Ron asked from her door, breaking her of her increasingly dark thoughts.

"No, how are you?" She asked as he sat down on the ground next to her school trunk.

"Better than Mum, that's for sure." Ron said lightly. She wasn't sure what that said about how Ron was doing – Molly Weasley was a wreck; being "better" than her didn't necessarily mean he was well off.

Things between Ron and her were weird, sort of. The weird came from how _not_ weird they were. He was there on the worst day of her life. He invited her into his home and family, a family that was grieving. Bill and Charlie came home, Bill bringing his girlfriend with him, and yet Hermione fit in seamlessly. She wasn't an outsider in this situation, even though logically she should be. She had seen Ron cry over Percy and he had seen her cry over her parents. Things should be different; they should be awkward around each other. But they weren't. They talked to each other, did their homework together, helped Ginny with her homework, and helped around the house. They both got to meet Fleur properly and learn how her and Bill met – Bill's boss had needed someone to translate some French and Gringotts had recommended Fleur, since she was fluent in French and, apparently, Egyptian, and knew English well enough. The rest was history. Things were effortless between them.

"How do you think Harry and Draco are doing?" Ron asked. Hermione shrugged.

"How are you doing?" Ron asked after some time had passed.

"Better than your mum." Hermione said, grinning grimly. Ron snorted. They both lapsed into silence again.

"Mum and Dad went through what Percy left behind before any of us got here." Ron said out of the blue suddenly. "The twins got a bunch of Percy's old notes. Ginny got a few letters, Bill got a journal and his books, Charlie got more notes and a bundle of letters. Dad gathered what was left of his clothes and sold them to some second-hand shops and gave me the money from it. And that's it – Percy left so little that we only got bits and pieces of things reminding us of him. Memories and old trinkets." Ron finished, sounding tired.

Hermione's eyes strayed to her trunk; she knew Ron put the boxes of stuff he grabbed from her room – her _old_ room – and hid them away there. Was it the same as what Percy left behind – 'memories and old trinkets'? She wondered what Seamus and Dean had left behind. Percy had been young and hadn't had the time to accumulate lots of things. Seamus and Dean were younger than he was – what did they have? Dean left artwork, she knew that, but what about Seamus? Hermione was ashamed to admit that she didn't know either of them well enough to even guess what remained.

She took a breath and moved to her kneel before her trunk. What did she have left of her birth family?

The trunk opened silently and a chaotic mess met her eyes. Two shrunken boxes looking no bigger than ring boxes were among a sea of books haphazardly thrown into place. It was obvious that Hermione had not packed this trunk last; it had never been in this much disarray before.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ron asked quietly. She hadn't realized how much her eyes were burning until she heard his voice. She couldn't speak past the sudden lump in her throat, so she nodded in answer. She pulled both boxes out and set them near her trunk in between her and Ron. A few seconds after being placed, they both expanded with near simultaneous pops.

The first thing her fingers touched was a bundle of photographs. She pulled off the twine and dumped the batch on the floor. A sea of her own face greeted her – there she was having her first bath, there she was eating cake in a high chair, there she was smiling and holding up a ribbon, there she was in her first set of wizarding robes, there she was outside a Greek library, there she was on the steps of her grandparents house with an ice cream cone, and more and more pictures. It looked like every picture her parents had ever taken of her.

'_It__ probably __is __every __picture __ever __taken __of __me.__ That__'__s __why __they __put __it __in __my __old __room. __To__ box __it __up __and__… __do __whatever __it __was __they __were __going __to __do__ with __all __my __things. __Lock __them __away, __perhaps?__ Give __them __to __me? __Who __knows?__' _ She thought, looking at the pictures.

"What are you going to do with these?" Ron asked gently.

"I guess sort them into more organized piles and put them back into my truck, once it's cleaned out: a pile of photos of just me, a pile of me and relatives, and the rest – if there are any more than just those. I have a few pages of my scrapbook blank; you remember the one Luna and Draco got me for Christmas? I can add some of the photos to that later on." Hermione said. She reached up and wiped the last remnants of her tears away and set about making piles.

A few seconds later, Ron added his hands and went about making a pile of her with her relatives while Hermione concentrated on pictures of just her. There were no other photographs to be found, confirming that her parents had weeded out all the pictures to do with Hermione and just tossed them away. Two neat piles of pictures were soon topped off and pushed to the side. She reached back into a box.

An old handmade clay dish, made when Hermione was in primary school as a gift for her mother, came up. It was sloppily made, covered in dark green and bright pink paint. She placed it off to the side, fully intending to get rid of it. The next thing her fingers touched was some of her ribbons from spelling bees, academic triathlons, and reading contests. Those were placed on top of her clay dish; she had no need for such things.

"What are you going to do with those?" Ron asked, pointing to her newest pile of things.

"Throw them out. I have no need for ribbons from my muggle school or gifts that my mother doesn't want." She replied simply.

She pulled out a huge pile of parchment, bound together with twine like a spiral notebook. She snorted, thumbing through it.

"These are my notes from school. First year through Third. Meticulously recopied and bound together in hopes that one day I would show my parents and they'd be proud of me or impressed with how smart I was. Merlin, I was an insufferable know-it-all, wasn't I? Clinging to what I thought I knew for even a little bit of praise." Hermione said, closing the makeshift notebook and placing it beside the clay dish and ribbons.

"You're not going to keep them? You spent so much time on them though…"

"I have no need or desire to impress people anymore. I'm confident in my abilities and my worth without having someone praise me for my supposed intellect. I have you and Harry to thank for that." Hermione responded, smiling at Ron. He returned her grin, looking uncertain.

The last thing from the box was a bundle of letters. She recognized them instantly – every letter that she ever wrote to her parents over the years was here, even her Hogwarts acceptance letter. She wanted to put it in the pile to discard, just out of spite, but knew she couldn't. She placed the whole bundle near the two piles of photographs.

"This box we're throwing out." Hermione stated and picked up the pile of ribbons, notes, and hand-made clay dish and dumped them back into the box.

Ron grabbed the second box and brought it closer, opening the lid while he was at it. It was mostly some books, some receipts, and a few ink pots. The receipts were from shops in Hogsmeade, a few restaurants she and her parents had ate at in Wizarding Greece and France; things that ultimately were just reminders of a world her parents didn't want to acknowledge. The ink pots Hermione would keep, the books were mostly texts she bought when she was younger and honestly didn't need, or want, anymore.

"The books you can sell back, either to second-hand shops or Flourish and Blotts, depending on the wear and tear." Ron said. Hermione nodded and stacked her books up on the ground in a neat pile.

"I might as well do that for my old school texts, too." Hermione said as she reached back into her trunk to retrieve the rest of the hastily thrown in books. Underneath the mess, the rest of her trunk was neat and orderly. All her Gilderoy Lockhart books (of which there were _nine_) were put into a "sell" pile immediately. Ron snorted, no doubt remembering how much of a fool Hermione was during their second year.

"I hope none of those have heart doodles or sparkles." Ron teased her gently. Hermione laughed.

"No, just some lines underlined and questions in the margins." Hermione responded playfully.

She put her first year texts with her Lockhart books and re-found her old copy of _The __Rise__ and__ Fall__ of__ the__ Dark__ Arts_ and found herself scoffing at the presumptuous title. 'Right, because obviously the Dark Arts rose and fell with Voldemort alone. God, I can't believe how ignorant I was once… but I suppose I was so young, I just couldn't help it. What did I know about magic?'

She found herself shocked into laughter when she discovered her much loved and battered copy of her first _Hogwarts:__ A__ History_. She ended up keeping it for purely sentimental reasons. In the end, it was the only book she kept for reasons that were not practical. All her first, second, and third year books would be sold to a second-hand shop – she doubted Flourish and Blotts would like them, considering she had written in a few of them. 'Then again, there _are_ spells to get rid of marks on books… I guess I'll just sell these to whichever will pay more.' Her Fourth year Arithmacy and Ancient Runes texts she was keeping mostly for the amount of formulas in them, but the rest she was going to sell. And that was it. Everything she had left of her past, everything she had left of her parents. Sorted and looked over, and it only took a little over an hour.

"Ron, this – this is it. There's no more. I thought… this is _me_. It's not them, it's supposed to be them. They – I don't – it wasn't... It's like I died, but it's not. I don't-" Hermione wasn't sure what she was trying to say and everything in her head was tangled. She thought of Dean and Seamus and Percy and all those nameless faces she saw in her dreams.

"Hermione." And Ron was in front of her, hands on her shoulders and leaning towards her and she closed her eyes –

It wasn't fireworks. There was no feeling of fitting pieces or a click. It was just Ron's lips on hers; it wasn't even anything fancy at first, just the pressure. But it was also long nights of staying up with her as she studied, it was learning new languages together, it was falling asleep in the same bed with Harry in between them, it was a multitude of warm hand-made sweaters and chocolate, it was summers spent watching Quidditch, and it was a rush of magic and warmth. It was seething jealousy and worry, it was exasperation and relief, it was… _Ron._ Not perfect, not subtle, but hers.

He pulled away from her, hands slipping from her shoulders to her hands. She didn't feel any different and he didn't look any different to her. Her head was less tangled though and she felt herself smiling.

"This is how things work between us, right?" Ron asked, looking to her for sense and answers.

"Of course it is." She answered, squeezing his hands.

* * *

_He had waited for this moment for years. He had anticipated and planned this moment for years. And now it was upon him and he completely froze. _

Voldemort stood in the house, looking over the threads of his magic and carefully undoing them.

_Aife had come with him, of course she had. She was more his mother than his classmate, more his older sister than his friend. Of course she was here. Of course. _

His master was quiet, but it mattered not. Soon, he would be whole once again. Soon, he would have Diamond again. Soon.

_When he killed them all, he cried. Once he was done acting like a child, he went to find Aife. She did not judge him or look at him in pity; she just took his hand and tugged him away, talking about school. _

The ring was warm in his hand and he could feel the flutter of the shard of himself within it. He could remember having to kill one of his Death Eaters for finding out what this was – what was his name? Regan? It mattered not.

_He remembered Aife giving him this ring. "It belongs to your family and is thus yours. Do what you want with it." _

He would be whole again. And his Master would give him his Diamond and they would be together again.

_He briefly remembered a moment of horror and sheer panic and thinking that he was such a **fucking**** moron** and he had to do something and something **cracked** inside him and… and… fog covered the rest and stole the memory from him._

It must not have been important.

* * *

The Dark Mark throbbed on his arm, dark magic swirling angrily just beneath his skin's surface. Blaise hated it, genuinely felt like ripping his arm off just to get it off, but knew that wasn't an option. He put the finishing touches on his letter to Albus Dumbledore. He was in a perfect position to pass information on to Dumbledore, if the old man accepted his proposal. Granted, it would actually be his mother passing most of the actual information, but the idea was the same. And both he and his mother wanted Dumbledore and Potter to win, so hopefully Dumbledore would accept his proposal to spy for him.

"Blaise, have you heard from Draco at all recently?" His father's voice broke him from his thoughts. He tied his letter to his owl and sent him off before turning to answer his father.

"No, but he's safe with his father and Professor Snape – they're all in hiding this summer." He answered. His father was confined to a floating chair; the man's legs were utterly useless. He used to be a Death Eater, but the fact that he couldn't move around by himself made it impossible. He stayed in the Zabini cottage, behind the wards, for his own protection. During the years that Voldemort wasn't around, Lucius Malfoy used to visit him every week without fail. Blaise knew his father missed their Lord Malfoy, but it simply wasn't safe for them to have tea anymore.

"How are your studies going?" Blaise asked after a moment. His father's chair turned back towards the doorway of the sitting room they were in. Blaise walked alongside the chair as his father started talking about his studies of the Dark Mark and any possible way to remove it. So far, absolutely nothing worked – every time the Mark was removed, and that took two rituals and quite a load of magic and power to do, the person who had the mark died. Often screaming and in a great deal of pain, for reasons unable to figure out.

He wondered, not for the first time, how Draco was doing.

* * *

Luna floated on her back, the water flowing around her and whispering softly to her. Eleanor sat quietly on the shore, lost in thought. Luna left her to her thoughts, knowing that sometimes it helped to just be alone in your own head.

"Do you miss Ginny?" Eleanor asked out of the blue.

"Yes, but I know she's needed with her family. And I'll see her soon. This isn't nearly as confusing as it was two summers ago."

The water told her Eleanor had joined her in the pond, shifting around her as it whispered. The sun was on its way down, the bottom just touching the surface. They'd have to get out well before nightfall, as Luna didn't trust being outside at night, even with the extended wards. She wondered if her father would be joining them for dinner tonight.

"How are you, really?" Luna asked.

"I'm okay. I don't feel so… fragile anymore. Ginny really knocked some sense into me before we left. Being here also really helps, so, you know… thanks. For inviting me." Eleanor said.

"I'm glad to hear it." Luna responded before dunking under the water. The water's whispering grew louder and she could hear stories and conversations. This was why she loved bodies of water – so much socialization! The Lovegood family had long been a bloodline tied to water – it communicated to them. It often wasn't a helpful magical trait – after all the most someone got out of it was locating dropped objects from ponds or lakes – but it was an interesting one.

She broke the surface with a gasp of air. The sun was starting to set now, falling faster.

"Time to go inside." Luna stated.

* * *

Harry wasn't doing anything productive. Just sitting in front of the mirror in his new room and staring at himself. He saw why so many people say he looked like his mother: it was true. He saw why people used to say he looked like his father, that was true too. He looked like the perfect blend of them – her check bones, her nose, her eyes, his jaw, his ears, and his hair. He was shorter than either of them were at his age, but he's been shorter at almost 16 years old than this before.

'_I__'__ve __been __almost __16__ many, __many __times.__'_ He thought ruefully. His 16th birthday was officially in a few minutes and for the first time in over a decade he wasn't in pain or hungry or angry. He wasn't in a cupboard under the stairs or in a room that was locked from the outside. Down the hall were two people who cared about him, were happy to have him, and loved him.

In some ways it felt like a completely new experience, but in others it felt like he was finally returning to something normal. Somewhere in the house, a clock struck midnight and chimed quietly.

"Happy birthday, Harry." He whispered to himself, getting up and intending to go to bed. A knock at the door stopped him.

"Happy birthday!" Sirius and Remus exclaimed upon him opening the door for them. Sirius had a small cake in his hands with sparkling candles on the top and Remus had what looked like a bundle of letters and a few presents. Sirius and Remus sat with him for two hours and celebrated his birthday with him. They ate cake, opened letters, and exchanged stories.

It was the last time he ever saw either of them that happy.

* * *

Neville was tired and dirty and hot. He was covered in mud and plant goo, the sun was high and bearing down on him, and he had been up for over twelve hours.

'_I__ am __never __caring __for __another __Korepellia__ plant __ever __again. __I__ fucking __hate __this__ plant.__'_ He thought angrily as he viciously cut yet another wandering vine from the massive green and black plant. The Korpellia plant was rather useless, little more than a magical weed, but if cared for correctly it would grow berries – they were a strange mixture between blackberries and strawberries. And they tasted heavenly.

Which made sense, since the plant they came from was from hell.

"Here." Draco suddenly appeared, with a glass of wonderful, delicious water that almost made Neville propose right there on the spot. Luckily, he restrained himself and just took the offered water.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look at a plant with such contempt before." Draco commented. Neville snorted.

"I hate Korepellias. They're evil, pure evil." Neville said, reluctantly handing the empty glass back to the other boy. Draco looked amused.

"I can see that. Our O.W.L. results came today. Well, more like your grandmother and Severus went to the Ministry to get them, but whatever. Here, have a break and read yours." Draco said holding out a piece of rolled up parchment like it was nothing. Neville took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and unrolled the parchment.

_Dear Mr. Longbottom, _

_The following are your Ordinary Wizarding Level scores. After which are the classes you can hope to take come September 1st. Have a safe rest of the holiday; please be sure to owl Hogwarts with the selection of courses you wish to take the upcoming year. _

'Have a safe rest of the holiday' was new. Normally, O.W.L. results simply said 'have an enjoyable rest of the holiday', at least that's how his mother and father's O.W.L. results letters went.

And following the brief paragraph were his scores:

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

_**Pass Grades**:_

_Outstanding (O)  
_

_Exceeds Expectations (E)  
_

_Acceptable __(A)_

_** Fail Grades**:_

_Poor (P)_

_Dreadful (D)_

_Troll (T)_

_Neville__ Frank__ Longbottom __has __achieved_:

_Astronomy A_

_Arithmancy A_

_Care of Magical Creatures E_

_Charms E_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts E_

_Divination T_

_Herbology O_

_History of Magic P_

_Potions A_

_Transfiguration E_

_Based on your results, the classes you may continue are as follows: Astronomy (6th year), Care of Magical Creatures (6th year), Charms (6th year), Defense Against the Dark Arts (6th year), Herbology (6th year), and Transfiguration (6th year). Classes you may retake, based on your results: Potions (5th year), Arithmancy (5th year), Divination (4th year due to your score of T as opposed to a score of D or P), and History of Magic (5th year). _

Neville was actually rather shocked by his results – he knew that being trained by Harry and worked to exhaustion on more than one occasion actually did help all his scores. He was positive that without Harry he would have gotten worse than an A on his Arithmancy and Potions exams, never mind how much the training improved his understanding of Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration. However, no matter how much knowledge he got from listening to Harry and Draco, he was destined to fail History of Magic – he just didn't have it in him to memorize dates and names. He knew, vaguely, the order of things that happened throughout history and that was good enough for him.

"I got eight OWLS, one of which is an O." Neville said, still staring at the letter.

"Here, trade?" He and Draco traded results.

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

_**Pass Grades**:_

_Outstanding (O)  
_

_Exceeds Expectations (E)  
_

_Acceptable __(A)_

_** Fail Grades**:_

_Poor (P)_

_Dreadful (D)_

_Troll (T)_

_Draco__ Lucius__ Malfoy__ has __achieved_:

_Ancient Runes O_

_Astronomy O_

_Arithmancy P_

_Care of Magical Creatures A_

_Charms O_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts O_

_Herbology A_

_History of Magic O_

_Potions O_

_Transfiguration E_

Overall, both of them had done rather well – Draco only got one more OWL than he did, even if he had more O's than Neville. But that was to be expected, just like him beating Draco in Herbology and Arithmacy was expected. Draco was so bad when it came to Arithmacy it was actually hilarious; the whole subject just confused him and he had little patience for it. And Neville had a sneaking suspicion that Draco may have been paying more attention that he thought whenever he and Luna started talking plants – it was the only way the Malfoy Heir could have possibly passed Herbology.

"Shut up." Draco muttered, no doubt seeing the smug look Neville could feel on his face. Neville laughed, turning back to the damn Korepellia plant. He wished he could see Hermione's reaction at her O.W.L results; she'd probably be frantic.

* * *

Fred sat at the kitchen table, looking over the latest plans he and George had come up with. Professor Dumbledore had asked them if they could make anything that would be of use for the Order and the two brothers had jumped at a chance to invent something with vigor. The plans he was looking over were plans to allow for mass apparition of muggles. Apparition circles weren't new things, they were actually really old and had been used once upon a time to transport armies from place to place chucks at a time. But, no one had ever made an apparition circle for the purpose of transporting muggles.

It made sense, apparition with muggle passengers was tricky and dangerous – it was possible, but the chances of getting splinched rose. With Death Eaters attacking muggles and wizards alike, it would make things easier if the Order had a few other devices that could be used to get the muggles to safety, not just a portkey.

'_And__ making__ portkeys __without __authorization __is__ illegal, __technically. __Having __a __device __that __works __as __an __apparition__ circle, __but __for __muggles, __would __be __easier __to __work __with.__'_

Fred and George understood why something like this would be needed. It was just a matter of figuring out how to do it without killing all the muggles in the process. The last attempt to do anything like this was in 1498 and while the circle worked, all the muggles arrived in pieces. Needless to say, Fred and George were being extra careful with how they went about this project of theirs, since it could end so catastrophically bad.

Fred was brought out of his examination of the very important plans by the sound of the fireplace in the other room roaring to life and spitting someone out. And within seconds, Albus Dumbledore was in the doorway.

"I have young Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger's O.W.L. Results. Could you go get them?" He asked, getting right to the point. Fred nodded before getting up to go get them – with the new wards apparition was only possible if you were leaving the Burrow. The two were in the room Hermione and Ginny were sharing, Ginny nowhere to be found.

"Your O.W.L results are here." Fred said. Hermione was out the door before he was fully finished with his sentence and Ron followed at a calmer rate.

"Think you did well?" Fred asked more of to just have something to say. Ron shrugged from next to him and Fred shut up. It seemed so hard to talk to Ron now-a-days – if he wasn't with Harry or Hermione, if he was just by himself, he tended towards silence. And it was odd trying to start a conversation; what would they talk about? Quidditch? Fred loved Ron, he was his little brother, but the simple fact was that they didn't have much in common – the longest conversations they had now had to do with the war.

'_After__ the __war, __I__'__ll __know __what __to__ say __and __how __to __say __it. __We__'__ll __find __things __to __talk __about, __like __before __Voldemort __rose__ and __Harry __became __more__… __well, __**Harry**__. __After__ the __war, __things __will __be __easier.__'_ Fred thought, watching from the doorway as Professor Dumbledore handed letters to Ron and Hermione. Hermione looked caught between nervous excitement and bewilderment while Ron looked tired and amused by Hermione.

"I got eleven O.! Five of which were Outstandings!" Hermione squealed, flinging her arms around Ron, who caught her around the waist in a hug.

"That's great. I got eight, myself, one Outstanding." Ron said in response. Hermione pulled away, looking back to her results with a more critical eye.

"Oh dear… I got an A in Divination. How in the… I just took it as a joke, expecting to get a P or something…"Hermione said dazedly.

"Well, it would appear then that you do actually have some talent in that field. That's interesting isn't it?" Professor Dumbledore said, sounding cheery. Hermione nodded dumbly while Ron looked bemused – there was obviously a story here Fred did not know. Ron grabbed Hermione's results from her, looking over them.

"You got an A in History of Magic, same as me. Now that's just strange, how in the world did that happen?" Ron asked. Hermione looked sheepish as she answered.

"I guess it's taking a bit longer than I thought to remember just how separate Wizarding Britain is from Muggle Britain. I remember a lot of questions seemed to be obvious to me that I didn't stop to think about the answer – I probably got those wrong because I gave what happened in the muggle world and not the magical one. Thus, the Acceptable." Hermione said, shrugging.

Fred wondered when she had mellowed out and how he had missed that fact. Professor Dumbledore walked out, signaling Fred to follow.

"Is your brother home?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, no need to call me 'sir', young Mr. Weasley. You're not a student of mine anymore, neither of you. You might as well call me Albus or Dumbledore, whichever you're more comfortable with." Albus said, twinkle in his eye and grin on his lips. Fred nodded dumbly. "I need your assistance, if you please." Professor Dumbledore continued.

"I'll go get George." Fred said, turning to go get his brother.

* * *

_A tiara glinting in the sunlight. Soft and fragile and strong and bright. _

_A city with no one in it, birds singing, the world turning, but no one walking the streets. Or sitting in the houses. Just lines and lines of nothing and steel and concrete. _

_Hogwarts stood tall and imposing, closed and dark. Gates bound shut and no light shown from it. It looked cold, alone, and above all else, dead. His chest ached and he felt like crying and screaming. This was wrong, this was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrong._

_A crumbling and cracked stone archway stood alone. There were no walls around it and no roof; it was exposed and the tattered black curtain swayed in the wind as clouds rolled by. Whispers and singing and bells sounded and it was beautiful, beautiful, twisted and wrong and there was something so, so wrong and right and wonderful and dreadful about it. _

Harry woke with a gasp. Sometimes, he really wished his visions would come at intervals or at least normally. It was aggravating going months at a time with nothing and then suddenly getting bombarded with visions in his sleep.

Seeing Hogwarts like that… the wartime wards were obviously up, the whole thing shut up. But for it to be shut up like that must mean there were no students inside. It was part of the wards – if the students were inside, the lights would be on at least. Was it a vision of abandonment? Would the war get so bad that he shut Hogwarts up, refusing to allow Voldemort to destroy it? And if that's what it was showing him, how the hell did he get Albus to go along with it? Do they _lose_? If Death Eaters got into the school and killed all the students… Hogwarts could shut itself up, he knew it would. No one would be able to get in it if that happened; the last thousand years have made the wards around Hogwarts somewhat sentient and she was nothing if not protective of the children in her halls. If the wards were breached – and with students inside it was a hell of a lot easier to have them breached – and students killed or tortured… Hogwarts would close itself. He knew she would. Or was it a metaphor? Sometimes his visions weren't literal, like the one he had about Tonks' loyalties. If that was the case, it could mean a thousand different things.

And that archway, he knew exactly what that was: the Veil that the Ministry of Magic in London was built around. Sometime before King Arthur died, that thing had appeared. Harry had been… indisposed at the time that it had appeared, so even he was just working off of reports and second-hand information. There hadn't been much information on it – just that if you touched it the thing _ate_ you. Of course, that was before they put the curtain over it, back when it was just an archway – it was easier to accidentally bump into it or back into it and if you did that… you were gone. He hadn't seen it with his current set of eyes, but he wondered what it would look like. Would it show more of a Dark Arts taint or a Magicks of Heaven taint? He was able to see it perfectly fine in his vision…

'_That__'__s __not __quite __right, __there __was __something__ off __about __it __in__ my __vision__ – __it__ looked __distorted__ sometimes__… __mostly __when __I __was __looking __at __it __straight __on. __Is __that __how __it__ would__ look__ to __me __now __or __was __it __just __part __of__ the __vision?__' _Harry wondered, fingers plucking at his bed sheets. So many unknowns.

"Hey, time to get up, breakfast is just about ready." Remus poked his head into Harry's room after knocking. Harry blinked before nodding.

"You're going to be one of the first students on the express; Sirius and I are going to be part of the team of Order members and Aurors to watch it. We'll meet you at Hogwarts, okay?" Remus said, hurrying off to most likely make one last chance to ensure he and Sirius had back all their teaching supplies.

Apparently, since Remus took over for Umbridge halfway through the year, he could teach Defense again this year. And since Sirius was also going to be there, that meant that technically there were two Defense instructors this year – it might be enough to contend with the curse on the position.

Time would tell.


	18. Chapter 18

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

* * *

The family clock showed where all her children were; the spell to make it had been in the Prewett family for generations. When her brothers had died, she remembered her mother's clock was covered with a sheet. Her mother couldn't look at it after that and Molly never asked her what it showed. She used to wonder where her brother's hands pointed to.

Now she doesn't have to wonder.

Percy's hand points nowhere. It has no pointer anymore and instead of silver it is black now. It mocks her, sticking out and screaming for everybody to see that she is a horrible mother. She hates herself for not being able to see past Percy's hand, she knows her six other children's hands are pointed elsewhere but none of them are _black_.

"Mum, the floo is open." Bill's voice pulled her away from the horrible timepiece.

"The floo, dear? Are we going somewhere?" Molly asked, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Bill smiled at her but something about it seemed strained.

"Yeah, you agreed to come back with me to Egypt, remember? Fleur and I would love to have you." Bill said, wrapping an arm around her to pull her to the fireplace.

It was getting harder to concentrate and remember things; Percy seemed to dominate her mind. She hated it, but what was she to do? Forget her son? He was so young…

'And whose fault is it that he'll never be old?' A voice whispered to her, sounding remarkably like her mother.

The floo spit her out and she could see an endless blue sky and a sea of sand. She remembered coming here to visit a few years ago, before the war restarted, when Percy was just made Head Boy…

'Fred and George gave him such a hard time, maybe I should have scolded them more often, got them to lay off their big brother.' She mused, still remembering happier times.

"Mum?" Bill again. She sighed and turned to face him. He smiled at her, curling an arm around her shoulders to lead her away.

"I'm living with Fleur now. I managed to buy a nice place near enough to the site, and I can walk to work on good days. It's through the market and tucked away. Doesn't look like much on the outside, but it's got three rooms, each with their own bathroom – the plumbing for _that_ was fun, let me tell you – a kitchen, and even a little sitting nook. All open concept, you'll see what I mean when we get there. Between Fleur and I we got a nice balance in the décor – it's a blend of contemporary and traditional. It's brilliant, you'll see." Bill talked eagerly and Molly lost the train of conversation as she remembered how interested Percy was in Bill's work and the site. He spent a lot of time with various books and listening to Bill's co-workers and was always very interested in the spell work and knowledge to be found here.

Molly jumped when a door closed behind her. She looked around and realized she was indoors.

'Is this what my life is going to be like now? Going through the motions as if in a fog while memories and thoughts of Percy suffocate me?' She thought with a detached sort of horror. She had no answers.

* * *

There were only two first years to be sorted. Letters to muggle-borns hadn't gone out that year, due to the war. Draco was already sitting and other students were still trickling into the Hall as Professor McGonagall brought in the sorting hat. She didn't call out their names but it was obvious who they were – Christina and Tessa Pyrites, the last remaining members of their family who were just made wards of the Ministry a few weeks prior, and part of an older family who made a name for themselves in both the muggle and wizarding world for their inventive architecture.

The two girls were the same height. One had short black hair that was swept out of her eyes, while her sister had long, curly black hair. The short haired one made it into Slytherin while her sister went into Ravenclaw. No one clapped and by the time the two girls were seated at their respective tables, the last few students had trickled in. Most children of Death Eaters had been pulled out, most likely the ones 15 and up were marked, and many other parents had pulled their children out because they were fleeing the country. (He says "most" just because the majority of them were pulled out doesn't mean they all were. He knows Blaise has the Dark Mark and is sitting next to him, so who knows if any of the others are marked? Better to be safe then sorry.) There were fifty-seven students in Hogwarts this year by Draco's count.

He wasn't sure if there had ever been a lower amount of students in Hogwarts' history. Perhaps when it was getting off its feet (he'd have to ask Harry to be sure of that), but even then the reason for the low turn-out would be different. It was apparent that Slytherin was the only house with at least one student per year.

"So, how was your summer?" Helena Flynn asked, breaking Draco out of his thoughts. She was a fellow sixth year who came from a neutral family.

"Boring. Yours?" Draco asked more to be polite than anything. Flynn hadn't ever spoken more than three words to him their whole Hogwarts career and he didn't see a reason to change that now.

"My family couldn't get out of the country. None of our relatives would take us in." She said bluntly. Draco paused in eating for a second to look her over. She sat calmly across from him but her hand, which was clutched around a fork, was trembling just a bit.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly. She nodded and he went back to eating. He looked around the hall and wondered how many of them have similar stories, how many couldn't leave due to money problems, or how many have been sentenced to stay because their parents were willing to die for a cause.

"Don't think about it." Blaise murmured from next to him. Draco wanted to obey his long time friend, but knew he couldn't.

The Headmaster eventually stood up and what little chatter there was in the Hall quieted.

"Children, while normally I would welcome you to a new school year, I feel that I would lying if I said I was happy that any of you were stuck in the situation we all find ourselves in. Dangerous times are upon us; there is a war going on. I would like to say that when the school year is up you will have families to go home to and that everything will be okay. I cannot. I will say that while you are within these walls, you shall be safe. Even now, people are doing everything they can to protect you and safeguard our future, your future. Hard times are upon us, dangerous times. It is now more than ever a time that we should stand as one. In an effort to protect you, I have suspended all Hogsmeade visits and Quidditch has been cancelled. I urge you all not to leave the castle, especially not after sundown. You are protected within the walls, but outside of them I cannot keep you safe. And always remember: Together, you are strong." Headmaster Dumbledore finished, looking out over the Hall.

* * *

Blaise watched as Draco and Potter talked quietly. Potter had a bracelet on his wrist that glittered just barely when light from the windows hit it. Blaise hadn't had a chance to get a really good look at it, but he knew what it was. It was probably gorgeous; after all, Draco had good taste.

He sat down near Potter, an open chair between them for Draco. The two stopped talking to look at him briefly and Draco arched an eyebrow at him.

"Figured if you were going to be obvious, I might as well sit here. Try to do some damage control." Blaise said quietly. Draco made a noncommittal noise and Potter stared at Blaise for a long time, long enough that Blaise was starting to get uncomfortable, before looking back at Draco.

'Right, I forgot that Potter is… odd, sometimes.' Blaise thought.

"Harry, this is Blaise Zabini. Blaise, this is Harry Potter." Draco murmured before moving to sit down between them. Potter smiled at Blaise, but it didn't look particularly friendly. More like the smile of a porcelain doll, complete with a strange disconnect between the smile and the empty eyes. Blaise nodded to him, before looking towards the front of the classroom.

'_What in the world does Draco see in him? I mean, he's gorgeous but damn is he creepy.'_

Just then, Sirius Black descended from a set of stairs that lead to an office holding his wand and smiling. He looked much healthier than he had in any of the recent pictures of him and was dressed smartly.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hello and well met and all that." He said. What little talking there was quieted down and people could be heard sitting down. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger took seats in front of Potter and Draco, after shooting him odd looks – not quite suspicion but also not merely acknowledgment.

"In case you didn't notice, this class is for all of the current sixth years from all houses. Seeing as we have so few of you, most of your classes will take place with all of you present. No need to have only two houses to a class when the current total of students is only about sixty, give or take a few." Professor Black continued.

"Now, given the past few teachers you lot have had over the years, I'm going to have a lot of work to do to get you all prepared for the real world. As much as it sucks, we're at war and you need to be prepared for the reality of that. Last year there was a catastrophic attack on Hogsmeade and it seemed as if ole snake-face was attacking everyone left, right, and center. Just because he's taken a bit of a break doesn't mean that things aren't still dangerous. Constant vigilance and all that." Professor Black paused here, looking over them all.

"You may have noticed that this year there was no book you needed to purchase for this class. This is because I have decided, and Professor Dumbledore has agreed, that the best way to teach all of you would be a hands-on approach. So, this class will consist of mock duels of all types – one on one, groups against groups, and any other combination I can think of. I will also teach you new spells to incorporate as term goes on, but most likely the one who will do that will be Professor Lupin, as he is back with us this year as well. One on one teaching is more his style, I'd rather just throw you in the deep end and call it good.

"Seeing as there are fifteen of you in this class, I want you all to make three groups of five. These groups will be the groups you stay in for the remainder of the year, so choose wisely. You have five minutes."

Granger and Weasley turned around and immediately said they wanted to be part of Potter's team.

"I'm with you." Draco said to Potter, who nodded absentmindedly. Longbottom came over and Potter smiled at him, waving him to sit next to Weasley. Blaise stood to see who looked like they could use an extra person when Weasley spoke up.

"Hold up, this isn't all that challenging. I think I'm going to go join someone else, so I can have more opportunities to go against you guys, it'll be better that way. Zabini can join your group." And with that he walked over to MacMillan and Bones, who greeted him with smiles.

"That alright with you, Blaise?" Draco asked. Blaise nodded, somewhat shocked at the way things turned out. Granger tossed him a polite grin while Longbottom just gave him a nod.

He sat back down and saw Potter smile in his direction out of the corner of his eye.

"Alright, all of you look like you're done. Make sure to separate yourselves and remember who you're grouped with – you'll sit together from now on. I want all of you to spend the rest of the class getting to know each other and such. Make friends or at least civil acquaintances." And with that, Professor Black pulled up a chair and got out a book to read.

* * *

Eleanor, Luna, and Ginny were sitting around a table in the library when Neville found them. Luna had what looked like an Arithmancy textbook open in front of her, but was paying more attention to Ginny, who was hunched over her own book with a scowl on her face. Eleanor's chin was resting on a book, looking thoroughly bored.

"Studying?" He asked with amusement. Eleanor snorted while Ginny grunted, waving her hand at an empty chair in welcome.

"Have you guys had Defense yet?" He asked while pulling books out of his bag.

"Not yet, we have it later today. From what we've heard though it's going to be different – some people have said that Sirius, sorry, _Professor Black_ is crazy while others have declared him the best teacher we've ever had. Ron already declined to tell us what the big deal is, said it would be better to have it be a surprise. Or something." Ginny responded, writing on a nearby piece of parchment.

Luna turned her book sideways and something… _rippled_ across the pages.

"What in the world?" Neville muttered, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Oh, did you see the bookworm? It helps me with my Arithmancy and glows in the dark!" Luna said happily. Neville nodded in response, wondering if what he saw was really a bookworm or something else entirely – he's never been really sure of how much to believe that comes out of Luna's mouth.

"How in the world does a creature that eats words _help_ you study?" Eleanor asked skeptically.

"Well, they don't eat numbers, obviously. I said it helps me with Arithmancy, not studying in general." Luna responded, turning her attention back to her book. Eleanor gave Neville an incredulous look.

"Alright, my transfiguration homework can go die in a hole. Seriously, I cannot make this essay any longer and I'm still short. I give up." Ginny said, slamming her book closed. "So, Neville, anything you want in particular or are you just here to spend time with your favorite girls?" Ginny sounded much happier as she changed the subject.

"Yeah, I guess so." Neville laughed. In a lot of ways, these three were his favorite girls – he wasn't interested in them, but they were his friends. He liked Luna's wit, Ginny's passion, and Eleanor's sense of humor. These three were also normal, in comparison to people like Harry, who seemed otherworldly at best or Hermione and Ron who seemed more mature then he was used to. Draco, oddly, was becoming a good friend, but there were times when they didn't seem to have anything in common. He really missed these three this summer.

"So… I've never gotten a straight answer out of you – do you like girls or boys or what? Because everyone knows Ginny and Luna's types and you three know my type, so that leaves us in the dark about you. Tell us your secrets!" Eleanor joked, leaning forward with chin in hand.

"I-I-Wait, what?" Neville stuttered, face heating up. Eleanor laughed at his embarrassment while Ginny snickered.

"C'mon, we're all friends – unless you're crushing on one of us?" Ginny teased. Neville laughed at that suggestion.

"Honestly, I don't even know. There's so much going on right now, I try not to think about it. I have no idea how you two do it – I can barely handle myself right now, I can't imagine how it would be if I was dating." Neville said to Luna and Ginny.

"It's easy for us, I suppose. We were together before all this happened." Ginny said, smiling at Luna.

"Crumble-horned Snorlocks tend to group together easily and I've always had an affinity for them." Luna said shrugging.

"So, you're confused or what?" Eleanor turned the topic back to Neville, who shrugged before answering.

"Not so much confused as… I don't know, it just hasn't come up? Before the war, I was concentrating more on not failing out of school and my plants and I always just thought I'd do all that stuff once I got out of school but now… it's just never come up." Neville finished awkwardly.

"Huh, I guess that makes sense." Eleanor said speculatively.

"Maybe you're like a sea-ell; they mate only when another sea-ell flashes the right lights at them but before that they never feel the urge towards it." Luna said, leaning back in her chair. He wondered vaguely if sea-ell's were real – they sounded plausible…

"Your guess is as good as mine." Neville responded, honestly not all that concerned.

"But wait, you've said Harry is attractive." Ginny said, sounding bewildered. Neville snorted.

"Yeah, because I have eyes. He's gorgeous, but I don't want to date him; sometimes I think Draco is crazy. Harry, while lovely and wonderful, is also seriously creepy sometimes and I've noticed his morals are all over the place. Yeah, no thank you; I'll keep him as a great friend, thanks." He said firmly.

"But, doesn't that imply you have a type?" Eleanor asked. Neville shrugged.

"Huh, guess it's not that big a deal. You going to tell us what Siri – _Professor Black's_ – class is like or are you going to leave us in the dark like Ron?" Ginny asked, changing the topic with ease.

"Nah, I don't want to ruin the fun. It's different, that's for sure. We might not need Harry to teach us with Professor Black here, but I'm personally going to continue training with Harry in my free time." Neville said.

"Oh, continuing with Harry's lessons is pretty much on everyone's agenda I think. Just because we have a competent teacher doesn't mean we don't want to continue learning advanced stuff from a master." Eleanor said, before shuddering and continuing with: "Just means we're going to go back to having aches and pains and exhaustion and messed up sleep schedules."

* * *

Her bedroom here was small. One dresser, one double bed, one pillow upon that bed. She liked it, sometimes.

'_This is my room and not a shared one. It will suffocate me in how alone I am but it is better than being with him. I can't.'_

She loved him, she did. He killed one of her babies and she hated him. She hated herself for loving him sometimes when she wanted it to be never. She hated herself for being a failure as a mother – one of her children turned into a monster and yet she mourned for the monster and despaired for the remaining six. They would all die in this war, she knew. She knew.

"Mum?" One of her son's hesitant voices made her turn towards the door. Short, smooth hair framed a face she knew well – Charlie's eyebrows were like Percy's, along with his full mouth, and cute little nose.

She wondered when he would die. She hoped it was quick, when it came.

"Mum, I wanted to… I need to talk to you. May I come in?" Charlie asked. She beckoned him into her room wanting nothing more than to protect him from the world. Maybe she could take her children back, spare them from death?

Charlie took one of her hands in his as he sat next to her. How strange to think that once his whole hand could fit around one of her fingers.

"Mum, I'm going back to Romania. Bill will… he'll be here. But I… I need to go back, we're doing extraordinary things and I'm needed there. I- I love you, but I also love my job. I can't stay here, I can't, Mum. I need to go, I can't stay. I can't." Charlie sounded so close to tears, he sounded so upset. Was he this upset when he heard about Percy?

Charlie always was very emotional, like Percy. Bill and Ron hide upset beneath anger and, lately, ice but Charlie and Percy were always the criers. Fred and George never seemed to get upset, almost like there wasn't enough time in life to bother with tears. Ginny was a strange middle ground – she got upset and lashed out with words and tears together.

"Mum, are you listening? I need to go." Charlie said, tears rolling down his face and looking at her with a strange expression. She'd never seen an expression like that on him before…

"Go?" She asked, not sure if she was following the conversation correctly. Did he know this war would kill him and was fleeing? She hoped so.

"Yeah, I need to go. I can't… I love you, but I can't do this. I'm not like Bill, I'm not strong like he is… I can't do this. I need to go." Charlie whispered. He was in pain, so much pain. She needed to do something for him.

"Then you go, baby. You do what you can and what you need." She said to him, leaning on his shoulder. If only Percy had come to her with his pain instead of letting it turn him into a monster…

Charlie hugged her, clutching desperately at her, crying into her hair. He whispered how much he loved her over and over.

She wondered if Percy ever really loved her or if she was just some foolish woman who birthed him in his eyes.

* * *

Granger is a force of nature. Blaise has always known that she was a studier and an intellect, but he had always thought she was like Draco – that she liked to learn things but also liked to relax and disliked anything too hard for her. Boy was he wrong. She was nothing like Draco, who tended to get frustrated with things easily and drop them when he wasn't getting the hang of it. Things that Granger couldn't do or understand weren't dropped but rather attacked until they were forced into submission. It was exhausting.

Currently, she was glaring at him from across the room, hair moss-covered from a hex that he shot at her seconds ago, while he was standing unharmed and unchanged.

"How did you do that?! When I tried that spell, it didn't work! You should be vomiting blue and green worms right now! Why did the spell work for you and not me?!" She hissed at him, invoking the likeliness to her rather ugly cat, Crook or something. That cat was rather infamous in Hogwarts for being unfriendly and getting into things he shouldn't – he only behaved around her, if rumors were to be believed.

"I just did." He responded, a touch smug that he got the hang of it so quickly while she didn't.

"That doesn't make any sense! Draco just taught us this spell – we both should have failed!" She snarled.

He arched an eyebrow at her flawed logic as she huffed, looking a little sheepish.

"Alright, so that was a little childish to say. Sorry. How did you do that? Tell me in detail." She demanded.

"I visualized your spell deflecting, spoke the spell, while sharply drawing my wand down from my eyes, before slashing leftwards." He deadpanned, knowing his answer wasn't in any way helpful.

"That's exactly what I did and it didn't work for me. Your answer didn't help me learn anything at all! What did your magic feel like when you did the spell? Did any part of you warm or get cooler? Did –"

"I don't know. I just did it – it happened quickly and I didn't feel anything and didn't analyze any of it." He cut her off before she really got going.

"Cast at me again, maybe I'll get it this time."

The spell they were working on was a shield spell, but it was designed to shatter upon impact, taking the damage and force of whatever was thrown at the person it was protecting. It was designed to be something a person could cast quickly and without much energy to hold it, unlike most other spells which drained the caster, and meant for ambushes; not sieges or long, drawn out battles.

He shot off the disarming spell at her and saw her do the right wand movements and heard her say the spell – "_aspido_" – perfectly. Her wand shot out of her hand and landed at his feet.

"Dammit." She spat, looking frazzled. Blaise sighed, picking up her wand and throwing it back to her.

"You're not visualizing the spell deflecting." Draco said from behind Blaise.

"I think I'd know what I was or was not visualizing better than you, thank you very much!" Granger snapped.

"No, you're just pouring magic into your wand and expecting it to protect you. You have to visualize the magic deflecting _because of your magic_ not because of the spell. All the spell does is give that idea – the idea you aren't indulging in – life." Draco lectured, sounding remarkably like his father it was almost eerie.

"I'm telling you, I'm visualizing!" She snarled as she stood back up and shot a spell at Blaise – he didn't recognize it, but didn't want to guess at what it did. He deflected it and shot a mild hex back at her. She didn't even attempt the shield, just dodged it and shot a hex right back at him. He rolled away and heard Draco laughing in the background before he spat a spell in Granger's direction. She performed the shield spell…

And was thrown into a wall, swirling different shades of blue and hair throwing off green sparks. She popped up and shot something that curved right into his side, throwing him into the air, before letting gravity take him. The impact with the ground hurt, but other than that he didn't feel hurt. He threw another hex at Granger anyway and this time when she performed the shield spell it did what it was supposed to.

Granger looked goosed briefly before a smile lit her face up. Even with swirling blue skin and tangled hair that was shooting off green sparks, when she smiled like that he could see what it was that Weasley saw in her.

"Good job, both of you." Draco said, clapping. His tone was sincere but the clapping was probably less than.

* * *

"Why can't we do this during the daytime?" Neville whined.

"I don't have any time during the daylight hours." Harry responded with a grin. "Now, I need you to concentrate. You know you can do this; you just need to be in control of it this time." Harry continued, folding to sit on the floor in front of him.

"Right." Neville muttered. During the Battle of Hogsmeade he had created his fire whip but he hadn't managed it once since then. Thus the reason he was with Harry, feeling like he had failed a class and was retaking it. He didn't want to be some berserker, only capable of powerful magic when enraged. He didn't want his magic playing him for a puppet.

He flung fire out in front of himself and willed it to hold, to twist into a weapon that could move freely and around things. He knew that this was a manner of will – there was no spell for this because the fire was already from him, all he needed was to keep control over it in the physical world. The fire sputtered out, _again_.

"Why isn't this working?" Neville shouted, wanted to tear his hair out.

"Did you feel any different physically during the battle?" Harry asked.

"No. I was full of adrenaline but that's fairly normal considering the circumstances. Beyond that I felt normal." Neville answered. "Was I supposed to feel different?"

"Magic is something that exists everywhere; outside and within. It is a tool, a way to manipulate the forces of nature to your will, a way to make your will reality. It is a part of you and you are a part of it; it is more connected to you than your limbs. When you use magic, even if it's only something small, you feel different – happier, perhaps, or warm. When using more advanced magic, your body reacts to it differently, depending on things like how your magical core allies itself, your bloodline, what magic you're performing, and other things." Harry said calmly, staring at Neville while he spoke.

"You've said that, I've heard it! I just don't see how that is supposed to help me learn this! What if I can't do it outside of a battle situation? What if I'm not as strong as you think I am; I'm not like you, Harry, I'm not some super powerful wizard! I'm just a stupid kid and I'm gonna die, just like Seamus and Dean! They're gonna kill me!" Neville screamed, trying not to cry and throwing his wand down. Harry wrapped him up in a hug instantly and Neville clung to him, crying like a baby into his shoulder, breaking as he always did whenever Harry hugged him.

"One day, you're going to die, Neville. Everyone is; it's the ultimate inevitability, the ultimate end. Everything that starts must end, someday. The trick of it is choosing the circumstances in which you die. Will it be in battle? Will it be defending yourself or someone else? Will it be when you're old and wrinkled, surrounded by your family?" Harry whispered to him, pulling away from Neville to touch their foreheads together. "I don't think you're a stupid kid, Neville. You're young, but that's not a bad thing. And you have so much potential. If you would just trust yourself you'd see it; it's right in front of you. I can't speak for your parents, but if you were my son I'd be so proud of you. I am proud of you, you have no idea." Harry wiped Neville's tears away and stepped back from him. Neville breathed a few times, clutching at Harry's praise like a lifeline.

He wondered what his parents would think of him, if they'd be as proud of him as Harry was.

"You aren't someone who needs a weapon, at least not one that protects your body. What you need is something that protects your choices, your choice of when to surrender to the inevitable and when to not. You need a tool more than a weapon, because you're not a warrior but something softer than that. Now, try again." Harry said.

Neville felt more worn then truly upset anymore so he just rolled his shoulders and braced himself for another failure.

'A tool, huh? Something to protect my choices, not my body…' Neville thought and flung fire out in front of himself. He willed it to become this weapon, this protection of choices. He felt something warm and sweet flare up inside, as if molten chocolate had been poured into his veins. He thought, for an instant, that he could even taste dark chocolate in the back of his throat.

And the fire twisted into a long, thick whip. He slashed his wand around and the whip followed with a crackle of warmth.

* * *

"Anastasia was a beautiful child, did you know? You resemble her in many ways; your nose, your eyes – the shape not the color – your fire, the love for your family. Especially that. Your older brother betrays your family, abandons all of you, almost kills your father, does kill countless others, and yet you mourn for him still." The man across from her said before taking a sip of his drink. He had graying hair and not a wrinkle on his face. He smelt of cinnamon and milk and she felt as if she knew him, had met him once.

"You're Rasputin." Ginny whispered.

"Yes, indeed I am. I'm dead by now, no doubt, but yet I still need to be here to teach you. Your legacy is one that has been hidden from you till now and I am here to remedy that." He said.

"What if I don't want it?" Ginny asked.

"That's not an option, I'm afraid. You have it, it's your legacy and you're not allowed to deny it. I can give it to you and not teach you how to use it, but I cannot take it back." Rasputin said gently.

"Fine." She said and found they were somewhere else: a stone room with arching windows and no doors.

"This is the training room. When you need a lesson, you will come here. Don't worry about the how, you'll know how to get here, I promise. This room will give you everything you need, including me." Rasputin said, leaning against a walking stick of some sort, wood dark and smooth.

"The first lesson is about finding things. I have taken something from you, something important, something you need, and hidden it. Find it and present it to me." Rasputin said with a big grin.

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

"Something important." He responded.

"How long do I have to find it?"

"However long it takes to find it."

"None of that was helpful information" Ginny said, getting annoyed.

"_You'll know what it is immediately, trust me."_ Rasputin's words echoed even as she woke up. She sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. Luna, who lay next to her, stirred a little before seemingly going back to sleep.

"Ron's going to throw a fit and Harry's never going to let me live this down." She muttered, looking at Luna and wondering if she should even try sneaking Luna out. "Oh, who cares? Ron will deal." She muttered again.

"Deal with what?" Luna asked quietly, eyes still closed.

"You here with me. You know how he gets – 'Oh, my baby sister is doing sex things, she's just a little girl!'" Ginny mimicked, giving Ron a high pitched voice. Luna giggled.

"We should probably get up, what time is it?" Luna asked. Ginny reached for her wand, she kept it in its holster under her pillow. Both were gone. No wand, no holster.

'_You'll know what it was immediately, trust me.'_

"That arsehole hid my wand!" Ginny exclaimed, shocked more than anything else. After all, Rasputin was dead. How had he managed to get her wand and hide it? Luna tilted her head at Ginny in confusion.

"You remember me telling you about that mark on my chest?" Ginny asked.

"Anastasia's heir." Luna stated.

"I dreamed about Rasputin. He said he was going to teach me about my legacy. That he had hidden something important and that I was to find it; turns out the 'something important' is my wand."

"Well, I guess we have to find it then. If you're supposed to be able to find it and he's hidden it from beyond the grave it would make the most sense if he hid it somewhere in the castle. It's what I would do. What are you supposed to do once you find it?" Luna asked.

"Go to the training room that he showed me in my dreams." Ginny answered, not finding any real fault with Luna's logic and hoping that her wand was hidden within the castle somewhere and not in, say, Russia.

"That's rather straightforward. Let's get up, we can start looking for it today, where did you put my bra?" Luna asked, searching amongst the sheets for the garment. Ginny plucked it from under the pillows where she had shoved it last night and handed it over.

"I think I tore the buttons off your shirt, you can borrow one of mine." Ginny said, feeling her cheeks heat up a little. Luna smiled at her and pulled on her skirt before opening the curtains around Ginny's bed, dispelling the silencing charm around them, and getting out of bed.

Ginny and Amell Volutei were the only fifth year girls in Gryffindor, so they shared the suddenly too big dorm room. Normally, Ginny woke up before Voultei but this morning they had woken up at the same time. And Voultei was looking at Luna with a gob-smacked expression and her ears were turning red at the tips.

"Good morning, Voultei." Luna said, waving at the other girl. She turned to Ginny's wardrobe and began looking for a shirt to wear. Ginny sat with a sheet around her waist and in naught but her skin and felt like melting into the floor out of embarrassment.

"G-Good morning!" Voultei squeaked, looking between the two girls and turning even redder, before grabbing her robes and book bag and running out of the room.

"Oh dear Merlin." Ginny whispered in mortification, grabbing clothes to change into. Luna just laughed at her, the traitor.

And because the gods enjoy laughing at Ginny's misery, when she and Luna finally managed to get downstairs not only was a sizable portion of the house (what remained of it, but she tries not to think about how few students there are at Hogwarts, tries to ignore it for the sake of her own sanity) around but so was Ron.

"Why is Luna here and wearing a Gryffindor shirt, one that looks suspiciously like it belongs to you?" Ron demanded, immediately coming to loom in front of them. People turned to look at them and she could already hear the giggles and whispers starting up.

"Well, I couldn't very well wear mine, it had no more buttons. And I'm here because Ginerva and I have to go to breakfast and classes, which means we had to get out of bed." Luna says easily and without a trace of embarrassment. Harry started laughing behind Ron; full out, whole body laughter that Ginny was disturbed to say she hadn't heard in what felt like years.

"Ron, you're making a scene, leave it alone." Hermione said irritably.

"You-You- Get to breakfast! And please, at least _pretend_ you're sleeping in different beds, for me!" Ron pleaded before fleeing, Harry trailing after him laughing still. Hermione snorted before winking at Ginny – _Oh Circe, I'm going to die of mortification_ – and following them out. Luna was radiating amusement from next to her but didn't comment on anything, just took her hand and led her out of the common room.

When they got to the Great hall, Ginny sat at the Ravenclaw table, not wanting to deal with her housemates. Breakfast was in full swing and it was a mess of noise and half heard conversations, even with the reduced student count.

"So, where do you think we should look for it first?" Luna asked while cutting open a muffin to put jam in it.

"I guess anywhere – our dorms, classrooms, the library maybe…" Ginny mused, biting into a cinnamon-topped croissant. "After Transfiguration we can try a locating spell, and maybe it'll be that simple."

It wasn't. Professor McGonagall was less than impressed with her missing wand during class and once class was over Luna attempted a locator spell without success. It seemed that something was blocking the spell from finding Ginny's wand.

"We'll find it, maybe Harry can help us?" Luna said after. If anyone would be able to find her wand, it would be Harry.

Two nights later she found herself in the training room, the stone floor cold under her bare feet and moonlight streaming in through the windows. Her wand seemed to vibrate in her hand, in plain view. Rasputin was standing before her, a strange expression on his face.

"You did not find your wand." Rasputin said finally.

"Obviously I did, considering that here I am and here it is in my hand." Ginny retorts, holding her wand up.

"But you did not find it. It was found, yes, but not by you. Are you really so helpless that you cannot find something so easy on your own?" He asked and she realized that the strange expression on his face was disappointment.

And with a jolt she realized that he was right. When something was too difficult for her to do, she went to Harry. If she couldn't make a decision, she went to Harry. It was almost second nature to her now, from years of knowing Harry and having him just fix everything for her. She learned it from Ron and Hermione, who did the same thing.

"I can't help you like this; you aren't ready." Rasputin said softly.

"You said I couldn't refuse it." Ginny whispered in response.

"Oh, you can't. And you're not and I'm not taking it back. You aren't ready for this, not now; you're still just a little girl. I made a mistake, so I'll come back when you are ready." He vanished out of existence, taking the smell of cinnamon with him. The smell she hadn't even realized was there but missed when it wasn't.

"Children should stay out of war games." His voice whispered to her as she fell into true sleep.

* * *

"Bill, are you well?" Fleur asked quietly, coming into the kitchen.

"Oh, yes, I'm just peachy. One of my brothers died a Death Eater, my dad is acting like if he ignores the outside world it will go away, and my mom has had a complete mental breakdown. And that's just my personal life." Bill retorted. Fleur looked less than impressed.

"That sorry for yourself speech didn't answer my question."

"I'm sorry, I'm just stressed." Bill muttered, turning back to stove, stirring the vegetable soup. He knew he shouldn't be taking his anger out on Fleur; none of this was her fault.

"I realize that, but taking it out on me is just going to cause more strain." Fleur said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head against the back of his neck. Her accent, while still noticeable, no longer hindered her actual speech. He figured she had a lot of practice speaking English between work and all the time she spent talking to his father. She was actually the one who discovered Arthur Weasley's new found phobia of news – bad, good, didn't matter, he didn't want to hear it. Mr. Weasley was determined to ignore the world as much as possible.

A timer dinged and Bill waved his wand at the oven, stepping out of the way as it opened and a dish of chicken floated out to the table. He turned everything off and waved the vegetable soup to the table and grabbed the bread to place it to the side. Silverware arranged itself neatly on the table along with dishes and glasses while milk, water, and juice flew out of the refrigerator to settle down, waiting to be poured.

"I'll go get father." Fleur announced as she left the room, leaving Bill standing there stupidly. His chest felt warm at the thought of her calling his father her own, as if they were already married. Magic take him, but he loved her.

Fleur and his father were talking about something as they came back into the room, Arthur waving his arms about and Fleur listening avidly. They dished out food and drinks and ate, talking about pointless things – how was Fleur's day? Did anything interesting happen at Bill's site today? What was the function of the ball in the ball-point pen? It almost seemed like a normal family dinner, but the absence of his mother was striking for Bill. He heard her silence in everything and felt it with every bite of food he took. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't get the chicken to taste as good as his mother's – his was always too dry and didn't have enough of something, a spice no doubt.

He was so angry at Charlie in these moments. Charlie was supposed to be here with them, trying to help their mother. He needed Charlie here, but he had run off with his dragons. _'Doesn't he care about her? She's his mother! She needs him and he just takes off to gallivant with his precious dragons! He even snuck out of the house while I was at work!'_ Bill thought, chewing his food viciously.

Conversation stopped suddenly, seemingly cut like a ribbon, drawing his attention. His mother was standing in front of the table, hair a mess. She looked so small, dwarfed in her nightgown.

"Mum?" Bill asked quietly, almost afraid of spooking her.

"I figured there was no need to make you take my food to me." She said, pulling a chair back and sitting. A plate and silverware popped into place in front of her. Fleur took his hand under the table, squeezing. He clutched at her, terrified and elated all at once. Was this the recovery he had been praying for?

His father got up and left quietly and his mother didn't even glance up from her meal.

* * *

Blaise wondered if, in another world, Neville Longbottom would ever be hanging out with him. They had next to nothing in common – Neville was passive while Blaise was more aggressive; Neville liked plants while Blaise wanted nothing to do with them; Neville was helpless with Potions while Blaise was very good at them (had to be when you spent so much time with Draco Malfoy). They had almost nothing in common and yet here they were, sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall during lunch eating and rolling their eyes at Draco.

Draco, who is trying to tell them that he wasn't crazy, really, and they should totally help Peeves prank their first, real Defense class.

"Draco, you don't even like pranks, why are you even bothering?" Neville asked exasperated.

"This isn't about getting into Potter's pants, is it? Because I don't know if I'm old enough for this conversation if it is." Blaise adds, deadpanned. Neville chokes a little next to him and Draco shoots him an unimpressed stare.

"Really, that's what you're going with?"

"What, you think I don't notice when he's spent the night in your room? You two aren't even pretending to be subtle, seriously, you're lucky the castle is practically empty." Blaise says quietly, wary of people overhearing despite his words.

"We're not pretending to be subtle because we're dropping the act. It's why he's wearing that bracelet I gave him out in the open." Draco said, biting into a sandwich.

"Wait, that's where he goes; he's spending the night with you?" Neville looks about as red as a tomato, which is equal parts hilarious and pathetic.

"Wow, where is your mind heading off? For all we know they're just sleeping." Blaise teases.

"Now I'm thinking about it, why did you say that?" Neville whined. Blaise laughed and Draco rolled his eyes.

"We sleep, mostly." Draco said dryly.

"No, stop talking!" Neville begged, looking five seconds away from covering his ears.

"So, no more hiding? Really, you're sure about this?" Blaise asked.

"Yeah, we hid it all last year but this year it's… there's a war going on outside these walls; but here there is still some peace. We don't want to hide, not here." Draco said.

"It's not safe, we don't know if everyone here is on the right side." Blaise said earnestly.

"They're still here; I think that counts for something." Neville said, sounding calmer now that the subject had changed.

"Yeah, that they're spies or informants." Blaise said bluntly. "Draco, this could end so badly."

"Or that they're scared and out of options. Which, honestly, isn't that great of an option either. But, I get what Blaise is getting at and I agree; this could end so badly for both of you, you could be used to hurt each other. Have you guys really thought this out?" Neville asked, concerned.

"We know, but this is too important to us to hide anymore. We're tired and I don't think it's good for him. He had to hide how he's felt for me long before we were ever together and I just can't do it to him anymore. I really appreciate that you two are concerned and you have valid points, believe me I know, but the decision's been made. We're not hiding it anymore, we don't want to." Draco said. He looked at Blaise, willing him to understand, to accept.

"Fine, you know I have your back." Blaise said, sighing.

"I do. Thank you."

* * *

The word looked so innocent, so simple, printed on clean paper.

_Horecrux_.

Albus almost couldn't believe how stupid he'd been, to overlook something like it. They were rare, but he knew a thing or two about rare, dark things. It explained everything – how Tom had survived, his warped magic and mind, the Diary, _Myrtle_. Not to mention, it would be something Tom Riddle would be familiar with, from having been taught by Aife.

'_Seems that no matter what appearance Mr. Potter has, he always seems to know things he shouldn't. Which, given his age, makes more sense. Aife would have mentioned this, probably in passing knowing her, explaining something else to Tom.'_

He remembered Aife Korasaki, little girl from Wales that came to Hogwarts from nowhere. Her last name indicated that she was muggleborn, but she had known this world. Left a little sister in Wales, came to Hogwarts alone. Sorted into Slytherin after only a few moments under the hat and within her first year she had befriended a Malfoy, a Black, and a Prince. Intelligent, polite, and cunning she had inserted herself into a circle of Purebloods from all the houses and demanded respect from her peers. She was never bullied, not after the first disastrous attempts that some older Slytherins had made in her first year.

Her little sister, Diamond, came to Hogwarts the next year but by then he had been paying too much attention to Tom to pay any more attention to Aife and her sister. He knew, from watching Tom, that Aife took Tom under her wing and that Tom and Diamond became closer and closer as they got older. Diamond was the only girl Tom had ever shown an interest in and Albus had worried for her. Tom had carved his circle of Purebloods, almost modeled after Aife's circle –Aife had Lycian Malfoy, Cedrella Black, Alphard Black, Orin Black, Claus Prince, and Fergus Bones. They were almost like her inner circle, they studied together and were often seen clumped together somehow – he knew that Lycian and Claus were dating throughout their entire Hogwarts career, but Lycian had married Orin in the end, no doubt due to pressure from their parents. He had no idea what happened to Claus Prince after he graduated. Tom's circle had been comprised of the younger siblings or cousins of Aife's group – Abraxas Malfoy, Walburga Black,Cygnus Black, and Eileen Prince. Tom's circle grew to encompass more people as he spent more time at Hogwarts. But Aife only ever added her sister and Aiden Fawcett, the young man she fell in love with and, truthfully, was still in love with as he reincarnated as Draco Malfoy.

Tom's group held great respect for Aife's, that much was obvious, but the two groups didn't ever really mix. Tom was the only one that would sometimes be seen with Aife's group, never the other way around. Aife's group became neutral or left the country when Tom became Voldemort; and if they didn't leave they died. Tom's group gradually became Death Eaters and, as they say, that was that. Albus never thought to reach out to Aife's old group, convinced that they weren't the type to join his cause; he thought them cowards but now he wondered if he should have tried to get them on his side. Would the death toll been so high if he had them?

After all, Harry was training his friends in magic, advanced and old magic, so most likely he had trained that group as well. If he had not been so sure of himself, could he have gotten strong allies from unexpected places?

A knock on the door broke him from his musings of the past and mistakes. He waved the door open and Bill Weasley, clutching something to his chest, rushed in eyes bright and excited.

"I think I got it! I found it, the text from those books Harry gave the Order. The thing that Merlin stole from Ancient Egypt and summoned: I found it!" Bill exclaimed, clearing Albus' desk of stray papers and books. Albus grabbed the book on Soul Magic he had been reading – the word _Horecrux_ was still mocking him even as he tried to focus on what Bill was saying.

"I thought it was a spell to make a Guide at first, but that's not all it is. It's an experimental ritual to make a super Guide, like one of those things on every enhancer you can think of. It calls for summoning two souls – specifically an _akh_ and an _akhet_ – and mutating them further into one entity and then trapping it into the corpse of a vessel. That vessel then becomes the Guide." Bill said in a rush, Egyptian tumbling out of his mouth as easily as the English.

"Bill, I'm sure this is fascinating, but Ancient Egypt was never one of my subjects that I knew a lot about." Albus said.

"Oh, sorry, right. So, an Akh is a transfigured male soul, like a ghost only one without an anchor that keeps it here. A ghost is a soul that is kept here by something, magic most likely, which is why the most popular theory that only wizards and witches become ghosts is held. But, the Egyptians had ways of summoning the dead, souls that moved on, so they had specific names for them. An Akh is a male soul that was ripped from the afterlife, with all their memories still attached, which makes them deformed and often times angry and powerful in that anger.

"An Akhet is a female soul, they're basically the same thing but they have enough of their humanity and memories left that they still cling to human concepts like gender, ripping them from the afterlife takes their memories of that away from them, so they remember only their life and dying, but nothing after. They were used as curses and weapons during times of war because they couldn't die and followed the orders of the one who summoned them. They could kill and maim and torture, just like a human, but not die.

"It was considered a sin to summon one though; you had to have permission from Ra and Osiris to get away with summoning one. And then you had to undergo a purification ritual afterward, it's all very ceremonial. If you didn't have permission, the Pharaoh would get a vision from Ra and know what you had done and send for you, to kill you. It was a crime punishable by death and disgrace – you would lose your name and your family would be cut from you. It was a major deal. But, anyway, this, this right here, I think this is what Merlin stole. It makes the most sense with that Harry was saying about the thing that he summoned, trying to make a Guide and it got away from him." Bill explained in a rush.

"And how can we be sure this is what it was that he stole? Not to doubt you, child, but we have to be sure." Albus said, a headache building from all the new information.

"Because I didn't find this in a tomb on the site; it was given to me by a Professor, he wanted me to translate it. I'm one of a few handfuls of people who can translate Ancient Egyptian for a reasonable fee and you know where he got this? Rome. Specifically, from a museum that loaned it to him for his thesis; that museum? The only one on Earth that lays claim to Merlin's Estate. This is it, Albus, this is what he stole. He knew he couldn't let it out of the wards around his Estate, Egypt would find it, so he kept it there and probably lead people on a wild goose chase trying to find where he had hidden it. But it was just in his house, waiting. No one knew what it was, he had tons of manuscripts and other things littered with Egyptian writing – after all, Rome and Egypt were allies then. The Romans used to call these things man-made demons! This is it, Albus, this is it; we found it." Bill said, sounding excited and feverish.

"Can we be sure of that? Don't you think Harry would have found it, if it had been at his Estate all these years? He's one of the people that was lead on that goose chase, after all." Albus said, wanting to believe but needing to be one hundred percent sure.

"Was he? Think about it, he probably knew exactly what Merlin stole. Or had a solid idea of what it could be. Harry would have been looking for a reversal or a way to kill the thing, not this. Besides, you've read those books he's given us, haven't you? Lady Saliar wasn't exactly all together there at the end, it reads like she lost her mind. And, you were there when he was talking about it, reliving it, he didn't seem all together. I don't blame him, but… Albus, Rome fell over a thousand years ago and by Harry's own admission he's been cycling through lifetimes ever since. He's been looking for a way to kill it, but so far hasn't been successful. I think it's because he never went looking for the original thing. Why would he need to if he knew what it was in the first place, right?" Bill said.

The theory was sound. For all that Harry might be a very, very old soul trapped, for now, in a teenager's body that didn't make him some omnipresent being.

"You think he's been over looking things because of assumptions or even pride?" Albus asked.

"No. I think he's been over looking things because of pain and memories and fear. I was able to translate this and realize what it was and rush here because to me, this is a piece of history. I have no part in it, nothing ties me to it. It's old history. But for Harry? Just being handed something that came from Merlin's Estate might be too much for him. He _knew_ Merlin. He helped raise Merlin, he fought alongside Merlin, knew his kids, his wife, he _knew_ Merlin. I think that would fuck with anyone." Bill said quietly.

"I think, to stop whatever it is that is controlling Voldemort, that we need to know _what_ it is. And to do that, we need to know what ritual Merlin bastardized to create it." Bill continued. "And this is it; I can feel it in my bones."

Albus trailed a hand over the aged papyrus paper, magic strumming just under his fingers keeping the paper together and strong despite its age.

"I believe you. Get me a translation of it as quickly as you can, but don't rush it. Feel free to use Latin and English both, if it helps. I also know Ancient Greek if it's needed, try and get it exact as you can." Albus ordered.

* * *

Ron flopped onto the couch with a groan. His whole body ached it seemed like and the couch felt like every good thing about the world all rolled into one object. He might never move again.

"God, I'm sore and not even in a good way. Between Sirius' defense classes and Harry's increased training I feel about ready to sleep for a year." Hermione said, flopping down next to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she curled even closer to him.

"I hear you. If I never have to participate in a mock battle against you ever again, it'll be too soon. Also, don't know what you're complaining about, at least your defense group can work together; mine was a mess. It's like they'd never heard of teamwork and Harry threw me into a wall!" Ron whined.

"Ours wasn't much better, honestly. Neville and Blaise worked to ensure Draco was covered and Harry mostly covered me but no one was covering him or Neville. And I was concentrating too much on knocking you around to actually be any real help; you're just so much fun to duel." Hermione said, grinning up at hm. He stuck his tongue out at her and didn't even feel childish about it.

"Still, your group is the only one without homework, so that means you did well. And you guys got to leave before Peeves came, so consider yourselves lucky."

"I heard about that; I guess it's good that Peeves is back to his usual ways. Means the castle is safe, right?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but I don't think I've ever seen Sirius that put out by a prank before." Ron responded.

"How much homework do you have? I've got a transfiguration essay, an arithmancy equation to solve, and Harry gave me a book to read. In Russian of all languages, can you believe that?" Hermione said, sounding remarkably like she was a normal teenager complaining about homework.

"Transfiguration essay, helping Luna and Ginny with the Patronus Charm, and Harry gave me an essay to read, on welding fire actually, in French. So, looks like he's worried about our language skills getting rusty." Ron said, grinning at her for no real reason.

"We should probably get to it soon then." Hermione said. Ron nodded, but neither of them made to move.

"You know, I've been wondering, like… are we dating or what? Because there was that thing over the summer and it was nice but… we haven't done anything else since then? So, are we dating or were you just in a vulnerable place and I was there? 'Cause, I'd really like to date you, so… yeah." Ron blurted out suddenly.

"We're dating, I thought it was obvious. I mean… we took a bath together last night. Alone. Without Harry there and… I thought we were dating? We spend all this time together and talk about pretty much everything and… aren't we dating?" Hermione said, sounding confused. She moved out from under his arm, tucking her legs under her as she turned to look at him.

"We did all that stuff before we were dating though." Ron pointed out, feeling a little embarrassed. "I mean, doesn't dating mean more kissing? I mean, if you don't want to that's cool too, but I guess I'm a little confused? Because we don't do anything like that and we don't hold hands or call each other cute names or even say we're dating so – "

He was cut off by Hermione's lips, soft and feather-light against his own. Her hands touched his face, his neck, before moving away from him completely, almost as if she couldn't figure out where to put them. She pulled away after a few seconds, before he could gather his wits about him to kiss her back, looking at him with warm eyes and a soft smile.

"If you want to kiss me, do so. You have my express permission, I thought you knew that. We don't hold hands because that's not something we do; we can if you want to, it won't bother me. I like your name, so I don't call you anything but that. I didn't think we needed to do anything differently, other than the kissing, which I like a lot." Hermione said simply.

"Oh." Ron said dumbly before moving to kiss her again, hesitant and unsure. He wasn't very good at this, he didn't think, but then the only other person he'd really kissed had been Harry and kissing Harry was more like being kissed by Harry, not the other way around. Hermione smiled at him when he pulled away.

"So, we're on the same page?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah, we're on the same page." Ron replied. Hermione twisted, leaning against him, a familiar weight against his side.

"After this is all over, there's gonna be so much work to do." She said some time later, from nowhere. She didn't have to specify what she was referring to – the war was a constant thrum in the back of everyone's mind.

"I can't even think about that, it seems so far away, like a distant dream." Ron whispered.

"Or a light at the end of the tunnel. When it gets bad, I think about the after. The laws that need to be changed, the attitudes that need to be re-arranged, the imbalances that must be addressed." Hermione said.

"Are you planning on ever sleeping again?" Ron teased.

"Sleep is for the weak." Hermione retorted, grinning. "It's going to be hard, but someone has to do it and if we leave it to others it'll never get done. And we're still young, so we have more time and energy to do what needs to be done. We're going to live through this, because someone has to be around to clean up this mess. And I have a younger sibling that I want to see, at least once. Even if my parents never know that I saw them." She continued.

Ron pulled her closer to him, kissing her hair briefly. He hopes that she gets to meet them but fears that it might be too late for hope and life to enter this particular storm.

* * *

"Albus, what exactly are we looking for? Besides a massively dark object?" Sirius hissed, feeling compelled to keep his voice low. It probably had to do with the run down house they were currently searching – the place gave him the creeps. Obviously abandoned and on the outskirts of a little village that looked like it had seen better days, but there was something sinister here, like something filthy and sad had sunk into the very foundation.

"I'm not entirely sure, Sirius, everything I have researched points to it being a ring of some kind, but having never seen it myself it's impossible to describe it. I'm not even sure if it is here, but I hope it is." Albus responded, shooting a spell at a nearby overturned, dust covered, remains of a chair.

"So, we're on a wild goose chase?" Sirius asked incredulously. Albus sighed, before turning to face Sirius.

"More like a slightly chaotic goose chase, if you will. I'm afraid that times are a little too desperate for anything more exact than that. You'll have to grant an old man some of your patience on this."

Sirius was going to respond, demand more of an explanation perhaps, but just then his foot hit something small that sent a chill of wrongness and… something, up his spine. He froze and had his wand trained on it in a second.

Albus didn't say anything, just bent down to look at it. Sirius hit it with a few detection spells, muttering under his breath about certain paranoid people who would have a thing or two to say about people who just bent down to look at suspicious objects without checking to see if it could burn your eyes out first.

The gold coating of the ring, large with a beautiful gem looking stone set in it, seemed to almost shine in the dim light, making it look shiny and brand new in this dump. Every spell he hit it with came up clean, but more of a new clean then a true one. Like something dark had been in it, but wasn't anymore. Those results were usually signs that someone had been tipped off to a raid and cleaned all the evidence away.

"It's clean, a little too much so if you get my meaning, but it reads clean." Sirius finally pronounced, squatting down to be more level with Albus. The old man picked up the ring carefully, turning it in his hand as he looked it over. "Albus, we should continue to look for that object." Sirius continued.

"My dear boy, I'm afraid we already found what it is we're looking for. Look here." Albus said grimly, holding the ring out so the face was visible. The black stone was cracked down the center, but around the crack was a familiar symbol: a triangle with a circle inside it and a line through the center. Gellert Grindelwald's mark.

"So, what, ole snake face got a memento from the late Dark Lord and then broke it? What the hell?" Sirius muttered.

"This isn't just Gellert's mark, Sirius. This… is baffling. Something strange is afoot here and I'm afraid that I, for once, have no idea what's going on." Albus said, a forbidding tone of finality in his voice.

* * *

Gringotts was cold and still around him. The corpse of a dragon was lying in a smoking heap nearby, a smaller dragon's body was carelessly thrown on top of some goblins. The door to a vault was thrown open, enchantments were sizzling, gold piles disrupted and some objects smoking.

He felt… more, somehow. A piece of himself that he cast away has been returned and it felt like victory, like being the smartest person in the room, like Diamond telling him she loved him.

And just like that, pain took over everything and he curled in on himself, trying to stop it. Agony was not something he has ever liked and this… this was being hungry and listening to the Nuns tell everyone to eat up because Tom can't have dinner tonight, he's been bad. This was ice in his bare hands, so cold it's fire, trying to hold back tears because they didn't ever help. This was walking on a broken ankle and fire licking at his back.

His beautiful bride was dead. Taken from him. And he…

He…

_Don't think about it, it'll hurt you. Calm yourself, child. I am here._

His master was merciful and took pain away from him, left him powerful and strong. But there was something just on the edge of his memory… something important… so important…

_Aife burst into the house, hair flying and eyes wild. _

"_He's coming, we don't have much time!" She shrieked, panicked and there was blood on her hands and a bruise was starting to form on her face. Diamond was shaking next to him and in her arms was…_

He stopped trying to remember.

* * *

A/N: I apologize so much for the very, very long wait. And really, thank you for the continued favs, bookmarks, alerts, and re-reads of this fic. And the continued reviews, even if they're only to remind me that you're waiting for an update, thank you SO MUCH for your patience and literally I'm so sorry that this is taking so long for me to finish up. There's only a few more chapters left and I really, really want to get this finished soon. Thank you for your continued support, I really do appreciate it. Feel free to leave a review!


	19. Chapter 19

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

"_Blah"_ Parseltongue/Notes/Different languages

_Blah_ Dreams/Flashbacks/Anything and Everything else

* * *

The window was open and a soft breeze was circling the room. Ginny sat quietly looking out towards the forest, concentrating until she could almost make out the shapes flittering through the trees. The dementors were still lurking in the forest and she wondered why they had not left or tried to come closer to the castle. The wind picked up as she leaned forward, fingers grasping the windowpane to close it and she smelled cinnamon in the air. Her breath came out as frost on the glass.

She closed the window, sunlight making her ring glisten.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk when Harry and Draco got to his office. Bill Weasley was standing nearby with various books, parchments, dictionaries, and even a few stone slabs littering the desk.

"I see someone managed to find you. Good, good." Albus said. "I wanted to ask you some questions, Mr. Potter. And I suppose Mr. Malfoy might have some answers for me as well." He continued.

"I found the spell Merlin must have used to make a Guide." Bill started, sounding half eager, coming forward and passing a few scrolls to Draco.

"The Ritual of Opposing Halves, yes. I imagine it was either in Merlin's estate or Egypt." Harry said, looking at Bill expectantly.

"Uh, yeah, it was in Merlin's estate. Which you knew, of course you did. I translated the whole thing, and Albus and I have poured over every bit of it. Even taught the old man some Ancient Egyptian." Bill said proudly.

"Do you know what a Horcrux is?" Albus asked abruptly.

"It's a device used to store a piece of someone's soul. They're usually very well protected, for obvious reasons, and they're very Dark objects." Draco said. He remembered a vague impression of reading about the subject but couldn't remember if it was during this lifetime or a previous one. Once, that would have disturbed him, not remembering why he knew something. It would have made him wonder if he was losing himself by becoming someone different, but now he knew that he wasn't becoming someone different – he was just becoming _more._

"Yes, I figured you would know of it." Albus says, sounding tired. Harry tilts his head to one side, looking confused.

"In the Ritual of Opposing Halves, if you want to make this weapon – because it wasn't originally designed to make a Guide, per say, just a temporary weapon – you need to make sure you don't spark it in an Inferi or someone without a soul, like a victim of the Dementor's Kiss. It needs to feed on the struggling of the soul of its host, that's what makes it so strong and so very taboo." Bill said. Harry's look of confusion cleared and he looked at Albus sharply.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me, Albus?" Harry asked intently.

"Tom has Horcruxes. You destroyed one in your second year. I'm ashamed to admit that I only just recently figured out what that object was. But that's what it was, and judging by how he entrusted it to Lucius, that tells me there's more than one." Albus says and he takes his glasses off, cleaning them. "Do you want to tell me anything about this, Mr. Potter?"

"He didn't have any before I died. I died just as Erus was taking him over and then… nothing happened. I mean, something happened, something horrible – but I didn't wake up to Hell like I thought I was going to. The First War was horrible, I'm not saying it wasn't, but when I died Erus had taken him over. It should have been a lot worse if it had taken. I thought, for a time, that maybe he had managed to keep Erus at bay or something but… that's not what happened. I think that moment was when Tom made his first Horcrux – because Erus needs a host with a soul, but can't do much with a host that only has parts of one – Tom trapped him, inside." Harry says, leaning forward to talk to Albus, eyes near glowing.

"You think he was trying to save himself?" Albus asked, intrigued.

And something clicked in Draco's mind. Tom Riddle, while bitter and angry as a child, had changed as a young man. He was a revolutionary, wanting to change the world and improve it; there was still some bitterness and anger but he didn't cling to it. He looked after people, Diamond and Alphard Black mostly, but he had all these ideas about children – magical children who were orphaned or abused and ways to help them. Tom Riddle wasn't a man that would want any harm to come to great numbers of innocent people, not at that point in his life.

"He was trying to save everyone else, at his expense." Draco said quietly. He felt, somewhere deep inside him, near buried, that he failed Tom.

"Yes, I think that's what happened." Harry said and Draco could feel an echo of rage and self-hate and pain, near crippling pain, from him. It was the first time in a while that he'd felt anything from Harry that strong and it almost took his breath away.

"Well, that's one school of thought." Albus said, looking conflicted before continuing. "The circumstances don't matter, what matters is that, with the creation of his Horcruxes, the 'Erus' as you call it could not take hold, correct?" Albus asked.

"Yes. Between his indirect involvement in Myrtle's death - and it was indirect, Albus, it was - and the murder of his father and grandparents, I think he had enough of a crack in his own soul to force a full split." Harry explained.

Albus sat back, stroking his beard and nodding.

"I didn't start to piece it together myself until after that incident with Ginny. I couldn't figure out why Erus was still dormant, because when I died I saw Tom taken. It happened in front of me. And then I awoke and it wasn't anything like I was expecting - somehow Tom had managed to keep him dormant. But this, this makes sense, Albus, this makes sense." Harry continued earnestly.

"I think I've managed to piece together what objects were used and as of now I even have a tentative number of how many he may have made." Albus said.

"I have my own ideas as well, but they might line up with yours."

"Well then, I guess the question becomes if I, and by extension the Order, can trust you, Mr. Potter. Your actions don't exactly inspire trust." Albus said bluntly, looking at Harry over his glasses. Draco bristled.

"That's rich, as if we have any grounds to trust you either." Draco retorted.

"I wasn't aware that I had been keeping a way to destroy Tom to myself the way Mr. Potter just admitted to. Or that I was keeping the fact that something much, much worse than just a simple man's delusions of grandeur were behind this entire War." Albus said grimly.

"How would I even begin to explain myself to you, Albus? I only pieced together that Tom had gone through with making Horcruxes during my fourth year. What was I to do, stroll up here and tell you I was the reincarnation of Aife Korasaki and hope you didn't see me as an enemy combatant? Don't forget that you had little love or trust for me back then. How was I supposed to trust that you wouldn't think of me as some kind of saboteur? Or would even believe me - let's be honest, this sounds pretty far fetched; the only reason you believed me at all is because you have other sources to back my story up." Harry said.

Bill Weasley was looking between the two warily but Draco was starting to think that something rather odd was happening. For two people who were discussing how much they didn't trust each other they were being rather blunt about it and there wasn't even a slight sense of hostility between the two.

"Tom asked Professor Slughorn once about obtaining seven Horcruxes. Horace always did have strange tastes in magical research." Albus said after a few more moments of looking at Harry intently.

"Yes, but study has shown that after six the host body starts to fall apart. The human body isn't meant to be soulless, we see that with Dementor Kiss victims. Further, Erus would never allow for that many splits. I expect that it was sheer luck and determination that allowed Tom to make the first split. More likely, Tom was able to make five or less. Honestly, the fact that he managed the one is a miracle." Harry said, leaning back into his chair.

"Seriously, after that exchange, you aren't even going to bother with distrust or trials or anything?" Draco said dryly.

"I don't see the point in ignoring a valuable asset, Mr. Malfoy. And while I may not have trusted Ms. Korasaki, I do trust Mr. Potter a great deal." Albus said.

"Perhaps I should leave?" Bill finally said, sounding timid. Albus blinked and turned to him, putting on a great show of being surprised by his very presence.

"Yes, perhaps that would be the best, Mr. Weasley. We'll be talking about a great deal of boring things." Albus said joyfully. Bill ducked out, looking grateful to be out of that hornet's nest. The meeting wasn't boring, so much as tedious and far too theoretical for any good to come out of it.

* * *

Blaise threw a cutting spell out, watching as it caught the Ravenclaw that had been aiming at Draco.

"Good form, Zabini!" Professor Black called from outside the protective dome the two groups were dueling inside. Potter twirled around a disarming spell and, not even bothering with his wand, kicking Ernie MacMillan away. Granger stepped up to Potter's right, wand trained on the remaining member of the opposing group. The boy held his hands up, wand pointed at the ceiling in surrender. Professor Black clapped once and the dome encasing them collapsed easily.

"Very good, well done all! Back in your seats, let's talk about that duel!" Professor Black said, shooing everyone into their seats and sitting on his desk. "So, thoughts?"

"Malfoy's team used a lot of spells I didn't recognize." Helena Flynn, one of the two remaining sixth year Slytherin girls in their year, said.

"MacMillan's team didn't work with each other like Malfoy's did." Mandy Broklehurst, a Ravenclaw with a soft voice, said.

"That's a good point. Zabini defended Malfoy a few times and Hermione stuck close to Harry throughout the duel. Teamwork is good for battle situations especially - Aurors are often put into doubles or trios to have a maximum chance of survival. You trust your group to have your back." Professor Black says. "Good observation, 10 points for Ravenclaw.

"Now, spells. Most definitely one team had an advantage over the other in that they knew more offensive and defensive spells. Fighting isn't just about good instincts and brute strength; you also have to have a good hold of numerous spells. You don't know what the enemy knows - if they know more than you, they could crush you." Professor Black said firmly.

The class was quiet. Blaise thought back to the attack on Hogsmeade - how adults had cut down children, oftentimes defenseless ones. Shop owners and his classmates. Knowledge was definitely power in a battle.

"Two different groups are going to duel for us next time and I encourage you all to try to get to a place where teamwork is flawless and second nature, like Harry and Malfoy's group. Also try and learn some of the spells that were unfamiliar - go up to Zabini or Hermione and ask them to teach you spells you were unfamiliar with. You are all a group, all united by being Hogwarts students. I may put you in different groups, but at the end of the day you are all a group together. You are all still here because on some level _you want to be_. Some of you couldn't get out of the country, but instead of staying home you came here - and that's important. You all choose to be in this group, so embrace that." Professor Black said, passion and conviction in his voice.

Blaise didn't think the speech was all that inspiring, but as he glanced around the room he realized that people looked thoughtful and hopeful. He didn't know for sure if any of the current students were spies or not, but he wasn't about to be waylaid by well-meaning words of unity.

* * *

Draco was sitting on the arm of Harry's chair, a book open in his hand. Harry himself was writing on a map, pausing to talk with Draco every so often before marking the map again. They weren't touching, which wasn't odd in and of itself, but there was something strange about them today. Something off that Hermione couldn't put her finger on. Harry moved to grab a book from the table nearby, silver bracelet catching the light, and Draco shifted slightly.

"Alright?" Ron asked softly from next to her. She hummed softly, turning to look at Ron who was staring at her bemused.

"Sorry," She said sheepishly. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying that I think the International Statue of Secrecy seems massively unnecessary. For a so-called 'international statue' there isn't a whole lot of internationality to it. Its more like the Western Statue of Secrecy, especially considering that once you hit the Ottoman Republic, most nations have their own laws and viewpoints regarding separation. The Ottoman Republic lets individual states mandate the degree of secrecy and Russia has massively lax laws regarding it. Most Asian countries don't even bother with separate governing bodies." Ron said.

"The statute serves its purpose – keeping the two worlds separate. That's important. Even in the East there's a separation – maybe not a complete one like here but nowhere in the world does a country have a muggle population that knows about the existence of magic. The muggle and magical communities each have their own histories, political bodies, and cultures. Magical Russia was never Communist and the Ottoman Empire was never broken apart in our world – it just became a Republic. That's completely different than the current situation in the muggle world where all that land has been separated into different countries! Getting rid of the statute would mean what exactly? No separation? That would be a massive disaster, not just culturally, but financially and politically as well." Hermione argued, waving her hands for emphasis on certain points.

"I'm just saying that it seems rather unnecessary nowaday, but maybe it would be better to call for an overhaul first instead of completely scrapping it. For instance, it would be nice if it included more protections. As the Statue stands now, most magical creatures have to be removed from their natural environs and moved into preserves, which causes extinctions and environmental damage in some places. Never mind that the statue lumps magical beings and creatures in the same category – Vampires aren't allowed to live in crowded muggle cities, for instance, because of the provision declaring that the removal of magical creatures to ensure separation. It's insulting – there's a big difference between a non-humanoid magical being and a magical creature. Just because some magical beings don't look "human" doesn't mean they're animals, you know? And the statue causes all western ministries to abide by one overlaying rule, even if it doesn't fit into their financial or cultural ways." Ron said, leaning back in his seat.

"An overhaul would require every nation that holds it coming together in a convention and drafting a new Statue – why not just add something to it? Like an addendum? That way it can address protections for a wide variety of groups, like Muggleborn Exposure. I've heard and read reports that if a muggleborn's parents don't respond well to magic they're obliviated and their kid had to act like they attend a muggle boarding school – they have to hide in their own homes!" Hermione said, waving her hands as she warmed to the conversation. "And those procedures are in place directly because of the Statue, not because of individual countries laws. If there was an addendum added it could smooth over interactions between the worlds in the West." She continued.

"An addendum brings its own problems though - getting people to agree to any of those proposed ideas would be next to impossible. Just because the vast majority aren't genocidal nutjobs doesn't mean most people in positions of power in our world are prepared to advocate for muggleborn rights or muggle protections. And, most of the things you would want in this theoretical addendum would really be better left for individual ministries to deal with. Like the Werewolf Regulations, just for an example." Draco cut in, turning on his perch to address them more directly.

"In the United States of America, werewolves are a highly regulated people. Wolfsbane is mandatory and free, which makes the ingredients used to make wolfsbane cheaper as they don't need to jack the prices up as an additional way to screw with the werewolf population. Because of the Safe Enclosure act of 1897 werewolves can't live in populated areas and they must have a place to transform that meets regulatory standards. And that's just the basics of it all. Britain isn't nearly anywhere near that regulated. We have the Registration Act which lists every adult werewolf, their living address, and their place of employment and its a lifetime sentence in Azkaban if a werewolf bites someone. There's no laws about where they're allowed to live and the ingredients for Wolfsbane and the potions themselves are outrageously expensive. Both nations have vastly different ways of dealing with werewolves and getting them to agree with the other will be next to impossible - our government doesn't even see werewolves as _people_ much less second-class citizens like the Americans. Can you imagine them agreeing to something for the sake of an addendum?" Draco continued, poising the question for either one of them to answer. He then turned back to Harry, effectively cutting himself out of the conversation.

"Precisely." Hermione said. "I don't mind the current Statute, I just think it should have a less deceiving title. Progress happens first in individual countries, then on a global scale." She continued.

"I still think its pointless - it's all about keeping the world's separate but then it doesn't keep up with the muggles. They attempted to but stopped at the Spanish Inquisition, when information was easier to contain and didn't spread as quickly." Ron responded.

"You sound like a doomsayer, Ron." Hermione said dryly. "Yeah, information is spread easier and faster, but muggles are also much more reliant on science to explain away the world. If, say, someone flew past a cruise liner on a broomstick and that was caught on film? Everyone would immediately assume the image was somehow fake or doctored. Just look at how easily they dismissed that Anastasia imposter in the 1920's - they said she couldn't possibly be who she claimed because humans can't block bullets. Not because she wasn't the right age, not because she didn't look like a Romanov, but because humans can't dodge bullets. Science says humans can't dodge bullets and since magic doesn't exist that's the end of it." She said with an air of finality.

"Alright, alright, point taken." Ron grumbled. "Speaking of Russia and red-headed girls, to deliberately change the subject in a concession of defeat, have you noticed that Ginny is behaving rather oddly lately?" Ron asked.

"She seems fine to me." Hermione said, twisting in her seat to look over the common room in search of the girl in question.

"I swear I saw her wearing a scarf and gloves to lunch recently. It's finally warm out, she can't still be wearing winter clothes. And Professor McGonagall asked me if she was feeling alright recently, which of course made me worry, so now I'm worrying." Ron said, frowning.

"I've noticed her wearing more layers, but I haven't really thought much of it." Hermione said after thinking over her last few interactions with the younger Weasley.

"Not all good things are warm. And typically, the colder something is, the older it is." Harry said, marking something on the map before him, before standing. Draco shifted to his feet, grabbing the map.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Ron said with a frown.

"Neither do I sometimes." Harry said, walking out of the common room after that. Ron and Hermione looked at each other in confusion.

* * *

_so many players. Too Many._

_Not slaves. Not slaves._

_We were to choose. We were to choose one and only one, not like last time when it was both._

_Not slaves. not slaves._

_We are hungry so hungry. too few of us too few. need more too warm. not slaves _

_not slaves_

_Light not feed us. not slaves but Light chains us. _

_So hungry. _

_We will feed. no choice. Breed more feed more. not slaves_

_so hungry. _

_(Protector. Protector. Guard. Watcher. Protect)_

_Not. Slaves. _

_can we remember how to get more? broken things from slippery slopes from decay. we were gifts once. Exchange protection. Slaves._

_Not slaves._

_Hide for sons hide from daughters no daughters,_

_we_

_are_

_so_

_hungry_

_Daughter now. No hide. Not slaves. too few too few. We were three then hundred then hundred over three. too few now too few. Not slaves,_

_(Orders sir Orders)_

_Left us to starve. Not slaves. Left us to starve. Too hot. no choice no side no choice_

_We are so hungry._

_And so lonely._

"Ginerva?" Luna's voice cut her into awareness, drowning out the strange whispers in her head. Wind picker her hair up, pulling at it and yanking her skirts around her. She had to go to them, they were so lonely. Had no one been feeding them? Her pets...

"Don't leave me." Luna whispered. The warmth from her body was gone and Ginny turned around. She was outside, how did she get here? The castle doors were so far away, shut up tight, and Luna wasn't anywhere to be seen. The forest loomed ahead of her.

How had she gotten here?

"Luna?" Ginny called out, straining to hear any response. The wind surged through the trees, tendrils yanking at her clothes and wiping her hair in front of her eyes. It sounded like screaming, the kind she used to have nightmares about, back when she still feared her own mind and wondered if Tom was still there, buried somewhere.

A crack of thunder overhead sounded and she heard wails, like a child's. They were calling for their mother, hungry and scared. She had to go find it, save it. She was alone out here, she didn't have a choice but to go to it. Her fingers touched the bark of a tree and she listened, straining to pinpoint where the child was. To her right, hidden in the trees, the child's crying came again. The poor thing couldn't be more than a toddler, what was it doing out here all alone?

"Ginerva, stay with me!" Luna's voice called, urgent, from behind her and she whipped around.

"Luna? Where are you?" She called, seeing no one around her. The child screamed again and she twisted in that direction, biting her lip. "The child, I have to go, Luna where are you?" She called again, looking around for the other girl franticly. There was no one here, no one at all.

"Stay." Luna's voice was so close, but she wasn't anywhere to be found.

'I don't understand. Where is she? Is this a trick? Where is she?'Ginny thought, turning around in circles, looking for any trace of the blonde. She spied Hagrid's hut a little ways away and started making her way towards it. The child's crying reached her ears again and it was starting to rain. The raindrops were freezing and it was too cold for such a young child to be out in the forest all by itself. Hagrid would help her find it; he knew the forest like the back of his hand.

The rain was coming down hard as she reached Hagrid's door and started to pound on it.

"Hagrid, it's Ginny, open up! I'm getting soaked and there's a child in the forest! Hagrid!" She called, voice nearly getting lost in the sudden gust of wind, angrily throwing rain at her back. There was no answer or even a stirring from the hut. The child was screaming, loud and frightened now, and Ginny pounded harder on the door, screaming for Hagrid.

"Ginerva, please!" Luna's voice was in the wind, calling to her, and still there was no response from Hagrid. She was all alone.

'How did I get outside?' She thought to herself, the thought heavy in her mind and causing her to pause in what she was doing. The wind was howling, rain coming down and smothering her, but she wasn't cold. In fact, she felt warm and that was strange for some reason. She hadn't been warm in such a long time, not since... she couldn't remember. Her earlier thoughts came back to her - _is this a trick?_ - and she stepped back from the door to Hagrid's and looked towards the forest.

Thunder and lighting were fighting in the sky, the wind screaming through the trees, and yet she could still hear the child crying out to her. The child's screams were clear to her, near ringing in her bones, and she knew without a doubt that she was utterly alone. She was alone and yet she felt Luna, as if she just had to turn her head to see the other girl, but when she did there was nothing.

"You're not a child." She said quietly and everything stopped. Rain paused in mid-air, lighting froze in the starless night sky and the wind finally died down, leaving only the high pitched screaming of a small child. The forest before her was utter darkness, shapes and shadows being swallowed within the first few feet. She had been living near this forest for the better part of the last five years and knew without a doubt that it wasn't nearly that dark. And the trees near Hogwarts weren't this skinny, now that she was looking at them properly. This was a trick of some sort. The screaming cut off.

"Where am I?" She asked.

_Everywhere_

The answer came from all around her, whispered from a hundred different locations. She was getting tired of this cryptic bullshit.

"I'm leaving. I'm going back to Luna." She said and she got laughter in response. _As the lady commands._

* * *

Ginerva woke with a gasp and a full body shudder, heaving into a sitting position as the showerhead continued to pour water down on her. Luna made a distressed sound, unable to form words now that Ginerva was awake and breathing, and flung herself at the other girl. The front of her nightgown was getting wet, but she really could care less, just clung to Ginerva with shaking arms.

"Luna." Ginerva croaked, hugging the other girl back and burying her face in Luna's blonde hair. "I was looking for you." She murmured. Luna couldn't say anything, just crawled forward to settle in her girlfriend's lap, clinging with all her might.

"I'm sorry I scared you." Ginerva said a little while later pulling herself from Luna's grip to press their lips together gently. Luna pressed closer, not wanting to admit that she was frightened. Luna never dealt well with fear, she thought humans were woefully under equipped to handle it.

They had been taking a nap, a break from studying, in Luna's dorm. Because of the small number of returning students she was sharing with just one girl, Agatha Cresswell, who had run off to get Professor Flitwick when Luna started screaming for Ginerva to stay with her. Luna had been the one to drag Ginerva into the bathroom and turn the water on, spraying her unconscious girlfriend with warm water, as the other girl was rapidly losing body heat. She was on edge but she didn't start panicking until Ginerva's Nargles faded away and the other girl stopped breathing.

Ginerva's hands were clutching at her back, keeping Luna pressed close, and Luna was more than happy to stay perched on the redhead's lap and kiss her until they were both breathless. She didn't want to let go, to stop kissing her, but Professor Flitwick's tiny voice was sounding from the other side of the bathroom door and Luna could feel the Professor's magic working to open the door. She used the grip she had on Ginerva's hair to pull the other girl from her, feeling a flutter deep in her belly at the groan Ginerva let out.

"Ms. Lovegood and Weasley, are you both quite alright? Ms. Cresswell and the wards led me to believe there was something dire occurring." Professor Flitwick said as he swung the door open and looked over them with critical eyes. Ginerva let go of her slowly but Luna didn't move, still needed the physical reminder that Ginerva was fine and breathing.

"I had a slight problem, but its fine now. I'm sorry to have worried you all." Ginerva said, sounding sheepish. She pushed at Luna, trying to gently get them detangled so she could stand, but Luna was not budging.

"Ms. Lovegood, if you could please get off your girlfriend, I really must insist that you two go to the Infirmary, if only because of the way the wards reacted. They were quite insistent that one of you was in mortal peril." Professor Flitwick said gently, coming forward to gently help the two stand and waving his wand at the shower, causing it to turn off.

Luna wasn't shaking but she clutched at Ginerva's hand, walked with her and stared as nothing happened. Her Nargles - the little balls of fluff and light she'd seen around people since her mother had died in a flash of blue-green light - were not coming back or showing any signs of reforming. She wasn't sure what that meant, if it meant anything at all.

* * *

Augusta Longbottom was not the same woman she was when her son and daughter-in-law were first married. Back then, she used to be a sweet, quick-tempered lady of fine breeding, if she did say so herself, and prone to long bouts of laughter over things she found humorous. She had often been found in her garden, tending to her plants, and had given the young couple a few starter plants for their new house. She was not anything like that anymore; she was not sweet and she did not anger so much as simmer until she boiled over. She almost couldn't recall the last time she laughed and her gardens were tended to by her grandson anymore. She hadn't set foot in them since her Frank and his lovely, lovely bride were driven mad by that sadistic bitch. She had never been more proud of her grandson then when she heard the reports that he had gone wand to wand with Bellatrix Lestrange and gotten away alive.

Alice gurgled something, knocking over her cup and screaming. Augusta gently picked it up, placing it back in front of the distraught woman and tried not to cry herself. Alice stopped screaming, turning to look at her with blank eyes, and gurgled something. Augusta sat patiently, listening to her babble and tried hard not to think about Alice as she once was.

She met Alice when Frank graduated from Hogwarts. By that time, they had been dating for a few years already and Augusta had heard her name but never met the young woman in person. Alice had been standing tall next to her Frank, hair done up in a bun, and they were talking with young James Potter and the pretty redhead that would be Lily Potter. Her first impression was that she was a lovely young lady with a strong jaw and when she laughed, Frank would smile at her, love shining out of his very being. Yes, she approved of Alice.

Frank threw one of his pillows at Alice's head, causing the woman to jostle and shout, which of course set Frank off and Augusta sat listening to them and bit her tongue to keep the tears from falling. She would not cry, not in this place, where anyone could see her. She was stronger than this.

There was movement from Frank's side of the room and when Augusta got a hold of herself enough to look, he was standing by his bed, walking slowly to Alice's. He had done this a few times, walked to Alice's bed and sat down to babble at her. Alice liked it, would give him her sheets and pillow slips, and threw a mighty screaming fit if anyone tried to make him go back to his own bed before she was asleep. It was strangely comforting to her, to know that even though they didn't know anything they still knew each other somehow.

Frank settled down next to Augusta, cross legged like a little boy, and Alice hit him with her pillow softly. Frank held it and grabbed Alice's wrist to keep her from hitting him again and they stayed like that, not looking at each other or babbling. Augusta closed her eyes, turned her head, and couldn't help the few tears that escaped her eyes.

Just then, a tremor came through the floor, shaking the whole building and for a moment Augusta thought it was an earthquake. Seconds later, fire curled up the stairway and overtook the corridors and spat out into the individual rooms. Augusta leapt to her feet, wand out and fire extinguishing spells flying. They were no use and within seconds fire engulfed her, the roar of heat and magic throwing her back.

Frank and Alice were screaming and burning, not moving from where they were sitting, and through the orange and red flames she saw them crumble like firewood, screams diminished in a warble. Her hair was on fire, scorching her head and she could feel the lick of flames all over her body, the searing pain unbearable.

When darkness took her, she hoped it brought her to her son and daughter-in-law. It would be nice to finally have a cup of tea with them and tell them all about their son and what a wonderful lad he had grown up to be.

* * *

Eleanor sat down for lunch at the Hufflepuff table next to Audrey Dodderidge, fellow fifth year and the only other fifth year in their house. Audrey's mother and father were Death Eaters, her father had died only last year, so Eleanor was surprised she was even at Hogwarts this year. (Of course, she was also surprised that such a sweet girl like her came from such ruthlessness. Audrey had never seemed like she cared much about things like bloodlines or politics at all. Finding out what her parents were was a shock to the system.)

Luna was seated at the Ravenclaw table, for once without Ginny nearby, and her housemates seemed to be giving the blonde a lot of space. Eleanor knew that Neville was seated at the Gryffindor table talking to some younger students about something and that Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were seated right near the Professor's table, talking to Professor Black. Eleanor wondered if she could invite Luna to sit with her or if the other girl was fine with being ignored by her House. She knew that Luna didn't care much about what other people thought of her, but she still felt bad seeing her singled out like that.

Halfway through lunch, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix appeared in the Hall with a flash of flames and phoenix song. Eleanor noticed that Professor Black stopped talking with Hermione and the others as the Headmaster passed the note down the table. When it reached Professor Black, he grew pale and left quickly.

"Students, if I may have your attention please?" The Headmaster called out, standing as the other Professors talked amongst themselves, looking grave and pale. A hush descended on the Great Hall as he continued to address them all. "The rest of your classes for the day will be canceled. St. Mungo's has been attacked and they require assistance. The majority of the staff are going, Professors Trelawney, Sinistra, and Vector will still be within the castle throughout the day. We should be back later on tonight. I ask that you remain inside the castle walls."

Chatter broke out as soon as he was done talking and Eleanor watched in shock as the Professors filed out of the hall. The hospital had never been attacked – not during the last war or even during the war with Grindelwald's forces. Hell, even during the few Goblin Uprisings that occurred right near St. Mungo's the hospital had been a safe zone.

"Longbottom doesn't look so good." Audrey said quietly and Eleanor felt a coil of horror come upon her at the mere thought of what Neville must be thinking.

The rest of the day passed in whispers and strained exchanges of what little information had managed to filter into the castle. They didn't know much – just that there had been an attack. Someone had heard from their relatives that the hospital was in shambles but no one could confirm that – it was a rumor at that point. Eleanor had heard Audrey and her twin sister Adina bemoan that the Professors had left them all defenseless and many people had agreed with them.

When dinnertime rolled around, the Professors were still gone. There was something very unsettling about seeing Professor Trelawney in the Great Hall during a meal. The woman was speaking with Professor Vector, looking nervous and small. Her hair was combed through for once and pulled back into a neat ponytail, making her look much younger than Eleanor could ever remember her appearing. Professor Sinistra was seated where Professor McGonagall usually was and she looked stern and sat stiffly, looking over them all like a dragon over its hoard.

Eleanor herself was seated in between Neville and Ginny with Hermione and Ron across from her at the Gryffindor table. Neville was grim and silent, eyes red-rimmed but she had been with him for hours and knew he had not cried once. She couldn't think of a single thing to say to him – what could she possibly say that wouldn't sound pointless? _'I'm sorry your parents are probably dead' _would get her cursed she was sure of it, if not by Neville then by Ginny or Luna. _'At least if they're dead they're not crazy anymore'_ was even worse. Hell, she couldn't even say something like 'I know how you feel' because she didn't.

Her parents had sent her off to Luna's this summer and left the country. _Without her._ They sent her an owl when she came back to school with the key to her bank vault enclosed and a note that they had wired a few hundred gallons into it. The worst part was probably that she didn't feel much loss at their abandonment; their loss wasn't anywhere near as painful as losing Dean and Seamus. They had never been very close and honestly Eleanor was glad they were gone – at least out of the country they would have a better chance at staying alive.

She couldn't say anything to one of her best friends so she did the only thing she could do – stayed near and be ready to listen if he wanted to talk. 'Dean would know what to do. He'd know what to say.' She thought, feeling her nose burn as she imagined what Dean would do in this situation. He had been much better than her with words.

"_Hey, Ellie, what do you think?" Dean asked, moving the canvas he was drawing on around to face her. It was a drawing of her face caught in a laugh with her chin tilted down, and even half done it looked very good. He had gotten much better at drawing ears, she noticed. _

"_I like it, but why do you draw me so much?" She asked, feeling her ears warm. Dean blinked at her, bit his lip, and then smiled sheepishly at her. _

"_Sorry, does it bother you? Man, I must look like a stalker…" He said mildly. _

"_No, no, you really don't! I just meant… I mean… you can't possibly draw me that much." Eleanor said quickly, waving her arms around. Her mouth felt dry and she could feel her tongue stick to her mouth. She wanted to say much more, point out how much more he must have seen Ginny and even though she was a lesbian, she was still much prettier than plain Eleanor. She wanted to say how Harry, even though he was a boy, looked gorgeous and Creevey was forever taking photos of him and telling anyone who would listen how beautiful Harry was. _

_Eleanor was plain, she knew. Mousey. Her plain brown shoulder length hair and her eyes were crocked on her face. She had a flat nose and too much baby fat around her cheeks still. She didn't think she was ugly, but she was under no impression that she was pretty. It didn't bother her, not everyone was meant to be pretty. _

"_But I do." Dean said seriously. "I draw you a lot. You should hear Seamus make fun of me for it. I drew you even before I actually got to know you, before Harry's lessons." He continued. _

Her eyes burned and she shoved a roll into her mouth, trying not to cry. Dean had finished that particular drawing of her and it was placed on her dresser back in her dorm room. The shading was brilliant and Dean had managed to get his signature to fit in one of her dimples. She looked at it every morning as she got ready and heard his voice and felt his hand running through her hair. It hurt.

"Ellie, could you pass the –" Whatever Ginny was going to ask for was drowned out by a roar, just as deafening as the Hungarian Horntail's. Magic, stronger than anything Eleanor had ever felt, shook the very foundation of the Hall, making the goblets and dishes rattle and people screamed. The silence when the roar settled was terrifying. She could feel her ears ringing and people were looking around, spooked.

Eleanor looked around the hall, saw frightened faces, and realized she hadn't seen Harry all day today. Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table next to Zabini and that Flynn girl and he was looking at the ceiling with an expression she had never seen on his face before.

Another roar, this one even louder, sounded and this time the shaking was so strong her teeth vibrated with it. The Professor's table toppled over with a bang and their benches crashed down, bringing the three remaining Professor's with it down to the floor.

"GET DOWN!" Draco's voice, loud over the din, called out just as a tinkering crash sounded from overhead. Eleanor grabbed Ginny and yanked her down underneath the table as something heavy crashed down. The roaring cut off abruptly as the shaking got even worse, benches tumbling to the floor and goblets and silverware went flying, as a large crack sounded. Eleanor opened her eyes, not aware that they had closed, and realized the hall was utterly dark.

"Ginny! Ginny, are you alight?" Ron called frantically from nearby.

"I'm fine! What happened?" Ginny called and Eleanor heard other students calling out for friends and siblings from around the hall but it sounded weirdly muted to her. She could make Neville out next to her, barely, but she didn't know what was going on.

A shriek ripped through the air and she clamped her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the horrible, high pitched noise as all the hair on her body stood on end. Light exploded across the hall then and she heard a muffled shout, it sounded like Professor Sinistra, and the horrible shriek was cut off.

"Students!" Professor Vector's voice was loud over the renewed screaming and crying throughout the Great Hall. "Please stay where you are. We are dealing with the situation!"

"The hell you are." Neville muttered from next to her and when she turned she saw he was bleeding from the temple. He wasn't the only one: Luna had a gash on her left arm and there was a good sized glass chunk embedded in Hermione's right shoulder. She and Ginny were unharmed, likely due to how quickly Eleanor had gotten them under the table, and the smell of blood was strong.

Something that sounded remarkably like lighting striking a tree sounded and then she could hear Professor Vector shouting off spells while Professor Sinistra chanted something. A horrible voice – loud and deep – was laughing overhead and the sound of thunder came with it. She didn't know what kind of creature made such a sound and she didn't want to.

"Ellie, can you heal Neville, Luna, and Hermione? I'm going to get a headcount of the Gryffindors." Ginny said, already spelling her hands and knees glass proof.

"Be careful, Gin." Eleanor said, moving to give the girl more room. Neville turned towards her without prompting and she pulled her wand free to point it at his head. She'd only repaired small cuts and bruises before, but she knew the spells.

"_Episkey._" She intoned quietly, feeling a small bit of her magic surge through her wand to Neville's wound. "_Tergeo._" She said moments later and the blood was gone. Neville grinned at her in thanks and she turned to deal with Luna. Hermione's wound required Eleanor to vanish the glass, which was simple enough, and by the end of healing her Eleanor felt a tad overheated.

"Dennis and Amell are the only other Gryffindors." Ginny said grimly moments later, crawling back towards them. The two other Gryffindors were trailing behind her, both pale and sickly looking. "The way to the room next to the Professor's table is clear but I'm not sure what's above us." She continued. A crack of magic sounded as Professor Sinistra's chanting reached a crescendo and something bellowed above them.

"Okay, everyone make for that antechamber. Hermione and I will cover you." Ron said after looking at Hermione.

"Don't move until we bang on the tabletop three times." Hermione said and then they both swung themselves out from under the table and vanished from sight. They heard Hermione swear loudly before she started casting spell after spell, some of them in Latin and some in something that sounded much rougher.

They were all pressed close at the head of the table, Ginny and Neville in the front, when they were signaled. They shot out from under the table at a dead sprint, Ginny throwing the door ahead of them open. Amell Volutei was the last one in and she slammed the door behind her. The room was undisturbed, candles still floating and giving off light as if all was right in the world; it was utterly silent inside, not a single portrait or candle stand was disturbed. The fireplace sparked to life at their presence, sending warmth throughout the room.

Dennis slumped to the ground and began sobbing into his hands. Amell wandered over to him as if in a daze, oozing down next to him with a white face. Luna knelt down in front of them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Dennis sobbed louder while Amell didn't even acknowledge the touch.

"I'm going to go back out and get the Ravenclaws in here." Ginny said quietly. Luna tensed but didn't look up, just continued to whisper softly to Dennis and Amell.

"I'll go get the Hufflepuffs." Eleanor heard herself say.

"I guess I've got the Slytherins then." Neville said and for a moment none of them moved. Eleanor took a deep breath and tried to get her hands to stop shaking before turning towards the door.

Stepping back out into the Great Hall was stepping into a warzone. The roof was ripped open and the two large windows that decorated the south wall were nothing but empty frames with jagged bits of glass jutting out. She dashed for the Hufflepuff table and noted that bits of stone and panels of glass had landed on her classmates throughout the hall with a sense of detached horror. Hermione and Ron were standing on the Gryffindor table, shooting spells upwards at something she dared not look at. Professor Sinistra was nowhere to be seen and Professor Vector was atop the high table, robes cut up and blood running down her face and arms.

She slid under the Hufflepuff table easily, knocking into Nina Delnormia who screamed in fright before throwing herself into Eleanor's arms.

"I-I-I thought y-y-you l-left us!" She sobbed into her shoulder. Eleanor hugged the seventh year gently, making soothing sounds and trying to calm her. Eleanor felt like crying herself but she had to get her housemates to safety, she couldn't cry right now.

"Nina, Nina, I need you to calm down right now. Okay, I just… Nina, _please_." Eleanor said while rubbing the other girl's back. "I gotta go help the younger students, okay?" She said, prying the girl's arms away from her. Susan Bones crawled forward to pull Nina against her and Eleanor couldn't help the surge of relief at seeing her alive and unharmed. Susan had always been nice to Eleanor and when she was younger the older girl helped her navigate the caste. Ron bellowing a curse, one that had a four year sentence in Azkaban attached to it, reminded her that she didn't have time to reminisce and she had to move quickly.

Crawling away from Susan and Nina was an exercise in trying to ignore what was around her. She passed what might have been Justin, blood pooling under his still form and staining her robes and hands, and bit her lip hard to keep from throwing up. He was still seated on the bench so he must not have even gotten a chance to go for cover. Ernie MacMillan was lying a few centimeters from Justin's ever growing blood pool, a large chunk of glass sticking out from his neck. His front was covered in blood when she got to him and his breathing was labored. She worked quickly on him, talking to him softly to try and get him to respond. It took him a few times, but eventually he could tell her his name and where he was. She wasn't sure if the disorientation was from the blood loss or a concussion, but she managed to heal his neck wound and then dragged him back to the girls.

Susan looked at her in horror when she brought him to them, but took Ernie easily enough from her. Eleanor told them to keep him talking. Crawling back under the length of the table was difficult, the smell of blood and death was overpowering and her hands felt as if they'd never be clean again. Many of the Hufflepuffs were still on the benches, some seated and others hunched over themselves as if still cowering for cover, and blood was dripping onto the table and floor underneath. It was like something out of a horror book.

She was halfway down the table when she came across Audrey. Her fellow fifth year was slumped against the leg of one of their classmates that hadn't made it under the table in time, but she was alive. Blood was dripping down her face, not just on one side, but down into her eyes and cheeks.

"Audrey, Audrey, hey, talk to me." Eleanor said, voice cracking as she hurriedly cleaned the girl's face, trying to find where all the blood was coming from. 'There's so much blood, the wound must be huge…' She thought worriedly.

"El'nor…yo're al'ight…good." Audrey slurred. Eleanor hummed quietly, smiling at the other girl as best she could. Her eyes blurred with tears as she finally found the large laceration on Audrey's head, hidden in her hair.

"Yeah, I'm alright. And you're going to be just fine, I'm just going to heal you real quick and then you'll be fine." Eleanor whispered, smiling as bright as she could at the other girl. It was taking longer than usual to mend her head wound and Eleanor poured her magic into the other girl, ignoring the small voice inside her that was whispering 'it's too late, there's nothing we can do for her.'

"Make sure….D'ana…" Audrey slurred and trailed off, legs giving an ominous jerk before stilling.

"Make sure Diana what, Audrey? Audrey, make sure she what?" Eleanor said loudly, working faster. "Audrey! Audrey, Merlin be damned, Audrey!" Eleanor called, shaking the other girl briefly by the shoulders. She could feel hot tears coming down her face and her last spell fell away from Audrey's form, useless.

Audrey's eyes stared ahead blankly, no light left in them and she wasn't breathing. She was utterly still and Eleanor stared at the other girl in incomprehension. Eleanor's hand shook as she pointed her wand at Audrey, voice cracked as she spoke a spell, and it came back negative.

She was dead.

Eleanor looked around and saw more utterly still classmates and small children still sitting on the benches for dinner, blood pooling under them. She caught sight of Dominique Geil, a third year, laid out on a bench with a pane of glass sticking out of her back, mouth dripping blood. She gagged but didn't let the bile come all the way up.

She closed her eyes and let her mind spread out, looking for mental signals. She couldn't identify anyone outside of her small group of friends by their individual mental signal but she could feel for them. She was vastly happy that Harry had taught them how to do this, because she didn't think she could take having to crawl all the way down the length of the table only to find no one left and have to crawl back to the front. She'd huddle into a ball and refuse to leave.

There were two sluggish flutters a ways ahead of her, so she forced her body forward, ignoring the blood and death around her. She found Laura Madley first, a second year who Eleanor had never heard speak, curled in a ball. She wasn't injured that Eleanor could see, but she was shaking badly and looked to be in the grips of a panic attack. Madley whimpered when a particularly loud bang sounded from above them and Eleanor made a quick decision.

"Laura, there's someone else caught under here, just like you, and I don't know if they're alright. I need to go find them, but I'm coming right back. I'm coming back for you, okay?" Eleanor said, looking the other girl in the eyes. She didn't allow herself to linger there any longer; she had to find the other living child under this table.

She found Rose Zeller, one of Laura's year mates, right as she saw Hermione fall to the ground with a crash, her hair tangled around her face and sticking to a laceration on her forehead. The older girl snarled in a truly inhuman manner before leaping back onto the table above Eleanor with a smash of plates. Rose's hand closed around Eleanor's wrist seconds later, grip tight and wet with blood.

From what it looked like, one of the boys seated next to Rose had managed to shield her body with his when a boulder-sized piece of stone came crashing down on them. He was rewarded with his spine and ribcage meeting and she was pinned under him, her legs wedged under his flattened torso. There was blood coming from one of her eyes, which had a sliver of glass peeking out from it.

She didn't make a sound as Eleanor worked on her, vanishing the glass and healing the cut it caused within her eye. Eleanor was pretty sure she'd still be blind in that eye, but at least it wouldn't hurt as much fully healed. Rose didn't make a sound as Eleanor levitated first the stone and then the boy off her legs but she also didn't let go of her left wrist. The girl's kneecaps were clearly broken and she was probably in a lot of pain – but Eleanor had no idea how to heal her.

She didn't dare just send magic into the other girl's body in hopes that she could mend her bones – what if Eleanor pinched her nerves together or vanished the girl's legs or the bones set wrong? There was too much she could mess up that she didn't dare try going into it without the proper knowledge behind her. She wasn't sure how to get her back to Laura, much less how to get her all the way back to the antechamber that was the safest place for them.

'I don't think I could keep her low enough to levitate her all the way there. She can't crawl, her kneecaps are broken. I guess…I could drag her. She'll get dirty and a little banged up but…and when it's time to run for the other room, I can carry her, she should be light enough. A there's magic if she's heaver than she looks…' Eleanor thought as she bit her lip.

"Hey, Rose, I gotta get you out of here. We're gonna go some place safe, okay? But I have to get you out from under this table, okay? I can't heal your legs, I'm afraid I don't have the skill for that, but I can drag you to where some of our other housemates are. It's going to hurt, but then you'll be somewhere safe, okay?" Eleanor said voice soft and she hoped she looked comforting. Rose let go of her wrist finally, still not talking, and Eleanor took a breath and tried to think of how to go about this.

Getting Rose back to Laura was hard but Rose gritted her teeth and didn't made a sound. Laura looked as if she had come out of her panic attack – or at the least that she wasn't actively undergoing one – and she eagerly followed after Eleanor.

Crawling back to where she had left Nina, Susan, and Ernie was difficult. Rose had found her vocal cords and was whimpering every now and then as Eleanor dragged her along. It occurred to her, as she paused for breath and let Susan take Rose, that the majority of her House was dead, just like her Dean was dead, and her friend Seamus, and her parents might as well have been dead and she didn't want to deal with any of this.

Hermione and Ron were still fighting whatever was above them, voices calling out spells and their magic was steady. They sounded more furious than she'd ever heard them and she hoped they were hurting whatever had done this. She hoped they killed it.

Nina had Ernie's arm over her shoulders and looked to be ready to drag him with her to the antechamber and Laura was still and pale.

"Ron, Hermione!" She called out, voice sounding much stronger than she felt.

"Hold on!" Ron roared back and something howled at him, sounding large and angry.

"Now!" Hermione called out and Eleanor's little group of remaining Hufflepuffs dashed out from under the table. Professor Vector was dead, pinned to the wall by what looked like a large severed finger with unnaturally long nails, and Eleanor saw Draco fighting like Ron and Hermione out of the corner of her eye.

The door slammed closed behind them. The other Hufflepuffs managed to drag themselves towards a far wall, opposite of Dennis and Amell, and Eleanor saw a flash of white blonde hair coming towards her quickly.

Luna's arms enveloped her and she collapsed into her embrace, sobbing her heart out. Luna managed to drag her away from the door, petting her hair and murmuring nonsense to her, just as Ginny burst through it with four Ravenclaws.

* * *

Neville slid under the Slytherin table and was greeted with the only Slytherin seventh year's wand in his face. Warren Vaisey was large and looked haunted but when he saw who Neville was, he lowered his wand.

Draco's voice chanted a Scandinavian verse and Neville felt a burst of magic above them crash into something. None of the three professors who had been left to mind Hogwarts were alive and Neville had no idea where Harry was.

"If you're here for the rescue party, most of your work is already done. These are the students that are still alive down here." Vaisey said, jerking a thumb behind him. Behind him were eight other students ranging in age and injury and Neville thought that Slytherin House might have the least amount of casualties than the others if only due to being so close when Draco shouted for everyone to hit the deck.

"I can get you all a window in a few seconds, so be ready!" Draco shouted down to them and Neville saw the students shift before he himself was turning and preparing to dash out from under the table.

"GO!" Draco shouted and Neville booked it. He heard Hermione and Ron say a spell together and by that time he was slamming the door open and running into safety. Draco was the last through the door and he slammed it behind him. Hermione and Ron immediately cast some spells on the door and Neville recognized a few warding spells but not much else.

Inside, people were crying and shaking and huddled in corners. Eleanor was sobbing into Luna's shoulder in a corner, covered in blood. He didn't want to think about how she had gotten that much blood on her.

"We need to get out of here!" Someone screamed eventually and everyone started talking at once, the nose overpowering for such a tragically small group.

"And go where?" Hermione's voice carried over the noise, drowning everyone else out. She was standing in the middle of the room, regarding everyone grimly. Everyone stopped talking to listen to her. "The things that ripped the ceiling off were some of the biggest and most feral looking things I've ever seen. I don't even know what they were. I'm not sure how many of you got a look at them, but there were only three. Three of them managed to rip a hole in the wards and knock the ceiling in. They even managed to transfigure some of the stone pieces into glass chunks for the maximum amount of carnage! If you think for even a second that this place isn't surrounded by Death Eaters right now, you are out of your mind. We need to stay in the castle. It's the safest place right now." She continued, voice firm.

"The safest place? My little brother is dead out there!" Warren Vaisey screamed at her, striding forward to get in Hermione's face.

"And yet, _you_ aren't." Hermione said calmly. "And I can assure you, leaving this castle will get you killed."

Warren seemed to choke on either his words or his emotions, at that point it was hard to tell which one, but before he could recover Hermione turned towards Luna and Eleanor. Neville isn't sure what she said to them, but whatever it was got Eleanor to lean away from Luna and stop sobbing.

Neville had no idea what to do.

* * *

A/N: Again, thank you so much for those of you that are still reding this, those of you who fav it and put it under alerts and such. I'm sorry that its taking me so long to write this but RL sucks major balls. On the plus side, I'm done with college finally so I should have more time to finally, FINALLY finish this fic! We only have a few more chapters to go and then its done!


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